The Long Trail
by Bluebird0032
Summary: Lucas and Micah are out of town when they discover Dan Hewitt has escaped from prison and is headed towards North Fork. Racing against time to get home, Lucas has yet to discover that Hewitt isn't Mark's only threat. This story is a stand-alone, rated T for violence.


For this story, I've borrowed several characters and referenced a few situations from multiple episodes of "The Rifleman". I do not own the characters or ideas from "The Rifleman", and have written this and all other stories for entertainment purposes with no intention or result of financial gain.

This is another stand-alone story with no connection to the other stories I've written.

 **The Long Trail**

"I couldn't help it! Like I told you, the man wasn't in town! I tried getting information from people, but it was no use!"

"You're not getting paid until I see McCain on my front porch!"

"From everything I've heard, I'm sure he'll show up here on his own."

"That's not good enough for me. I want him in pain and agony when he comes crawling to beg the life of his son! I want Lucas McCain to have nothing to do but worry all the way here!"

 **1MC1**

"Pa, please?" Mark asked again, looking up at the man who towered over him.

"Mark, we've been over this," Lucas chuckled as he shook his head and turned back to the stove. "You'd be bored out of your mind and school starts before I get back. Besides, don't you want to spend the rest of the summer fishing instead of stuck at a drawn-out business meeting?"

"But Pa, you're goin' all the way to California. Northern California!"

"And my answer is still no," Lucas replied as he raised his eyebrows, warning his son to drop the subject. "Who's gonna take care of things around here if we're both gone, anyway? Son, I need you to stay."

Mark looked at his Pa for a few more moments before turning to set the table.

"Yes, sir…"

"Mark, if I could take you with me, I would. But not this time. You can't be at parts of the meeting and I don't want to leave you to wander a strange city. It's not that I don't trust you, but-"

"You don't trust the people there," Mark finished, starting to understand where his Pa was coming from. "And like you said, someone has to keep the ranch running." Mark briefly paused before going on, "You know Pa, it would make a lot more sense if I stayed here, rather than running back and forth between here and town…"

"Nice try, Son. Besides, I thought you would be looking forward to Milly's apple pie?"

"I guess I can manage," Mark said with a sly grin.

"You guess?" Lucas teased.

"It helps compensate for all the vegetables she forces into me."

"It can't be that bad."

"Easy for you to say! You dish everyone up when she has us over, I don't usually see many vegetables on your plate!"

"That's because I had my fill when I was your age."

"Pa, why'd God have to go and create such a nasty thing as brussel sprouts?"

"To teach us that sometimes the bad things in life are actually good for us."

"Really?" Mark asked as he raised an eyebrow.

"That's what my Ma told me and I'm sticking to it," Lucas replied with a chuckle.

"Pa, what was it like, growing up with two parents?"

Mark's question took Lucas by surprise. The rancher thought for a few minutes, trying to find a way to answer his son's question. A sad look crossed his face as he was again reminded of what had been taken away from them.

"I'm sorry, Pa. I didn't mean to-"

"No Mark, it's alright. It's a difficult question to answer. I know you don't remember a lot of your mother, but you remember some of our life before the epidemic. It was like that the whole way through."

"That's not exactly what I meant. I mean, were you closer to one parent than the other? How did the other person feel?"

"Mark, there was a natural bond my Ma and I had that ran deeper than my relationship with my father. I loved them the same, but our relationship was different. There was no resentment; my Pa was usually busy working anyway."

"Pa, if Ma was still alive, do you think we would be as close?"

Lucas let out a heavy sigh, not wanting Mark to take his answer the wrong way.

"Son, I wish your mother hadn't died. We love her and she's a part of us. But no, I don't think we would be this close. When your Ma died, we were all each other had left. All we went through traveling, settling here, and all that we've been through since… all those situations that strengthened our relationship wouldn't have happened; at least not in the same way. Mark, as much as I miss your mother, I'm thankful for the bond we have, and I love you."

"I know you do, Pa," Mark briefly paused before going on, "And you're burning supper."

Lucas quickly turned around and stirred the meat and potatoes before setting the pan on the table.

Lucas prayed before serving up the food.

"Pa, what was Ma's favorite color?"

"It was green, Mark. A deep, forest green."

"When you two did something special together, what would you do?"

Mark watched as Lucas became lost in the past. A sadness came over his eyes as he looked past his son and at the wall behind Mark.

"I'm sorry, Pa…"

Lucas's attention was drawn back to Mark, whose eyes had dropped to stare at the table.

"Don't apologize, Mark. It's good to talk about your Ma. I'm sorry my mind wandered… the last time I did something "special" with your Ma was just a few days before she took sick. We'd have someone in the family keep an eye on you for the night. Usually, I'd make your Ma her favorite meal… or attempt to. She always insisted it was wonderful but…"

"I remember what your cooking was like…"

"We'd often take a ride after that. That last time we rode to the pond on our land… The sun had set and it was a beautiful full moon. But that night, everything paled in comparison to the love I felt for your mother. Mark, I wish you would've known her longer. She had such a simple beauty on the outside, but her inward beauty… that was almost more than I could bear sometimes. I don't know why on earth she ever agreed to marry me, but I'm glad she did. My life would have been so empty then… it would be so empty now without you, Mark. That last night we left the horses and sat on a fallen tree, listening to the nocturnal noises. Little was said between us, but…" Lucas paused and looked up at his son. "One day, when you're married, you'll understand."

"Pa, if I hadn't been born, what would you have done after Ma's death?"

Again, Lucas found himself struggling to answer his son. Was Mark old enough to know? Could he admit to his son that he probably would have murdered Samuel Gibbs? How could he explain this all to his boy?

"...The fact is, Mark, that you were born, and we do have each other. And I couldn't imagine not having you."

Lucas was thankful when Mark's questions about his mother died down. After supper, Lucas gave Mark the option of starting the barn chores or doing the dishes.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" Mark asked as he walked towards the door.

"I'll be out in a while," Lucas chuckled.

Lucas watched Mark through the window and let out a contented sigh. He didn't know what would've become of him had Mark not been born. He was thankful for his boy and smiled as he saw the young man Mark was becoming.

After finishing up the dishes from supper, Lucas grabbed his rifle and joined Mark outside to help with the evening chores. They talked some about Lucas's trip before laying out what had to be done around the ranch while he was gone.

"Maybe I should ask Oat if he could spare-"

"I can handle it, Pa, really. We don't need to hire anyone, it'd just be a waste of money."

"Alright," Lucas replied with a nod. He knew Mark would have a long ten days, but he also knew that Mark was needing to feel needed, and his boy could take on some more responsibility.

After tending to the chores, father and son made their way back inside and read for a while before Lucas sent Mark to bed.

Mark had just reached the bedroom door when he turned around.

"Pa, what you said earlier before I pointed out that you were burning dinner…"

"Yes?"

"I love you too."

"Goodnight, Son."

Lucas smiled as the door closed behind Mark. The joys of fatherhood never lost their depth.

 **2MC2**

"Morning, Micah."

"Morning, Amos. Please tell me that telegram isn't from Denver," Micah replied, seeing the paper in Amos's hand.

"You've been expecting this then?" Amos inquired as he handed Micah the telegram.

"More or less." Micah read the telegram and let out a defeated sigh.

"What is it?"

"I was afraid this was going to happen. You remember reading about Morgan Reid in the paper?"

"Do I remember?" Amos asked in surprise. "Reid pulled three train robberies in two week's time!"

"Well someone finally caught Reid. Two deputy marshals are bringing the prisoner this far, but one has to start on another assignment. They need me to help transport Reid up to Denver."

"You've delivered prisoners before, Micah. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is that Lucas is leaving this afternoon for a business trip and I really don't like the idea of both of us being gone at the same time."

"Don't worry, Micah. What could happen in this town?"

Micah stood there staring at Amos with one raised eyebrow.

"I guess that was a stupid question," Amos admitted. "But don't you worry, I'm sure you'll find somebody to leave in charge, and I'm sure everything will turn out fine. I mean, you won't be gone that long, will you?"

"A little over a week."

"What about Wes?"

"Wes? He's a mite young…"

"He's not that young, Micah. He's been a good, upstanding citizen since he moved to town and from what I've heard from the ranch hands, he's good with a gun."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Why not give him a chance? He's got a level head on his shoulders."

"I suppose it could work. Thanks, Amos."

Micah followed Amos out of the office and started down the street towards the hardware store. As he entered, he saw Wes helping a customer with an order and waited at the end of the counter.

"That order will be in after two weeks."

"Thanks, Wes."

"Have a good day, Mr. Jensen." Wes waited for the man to leave before turning his attention to Micah. "Morning, Marshal. What can I help you with?"

"You could let me deputize you as acting Marshal."

"What?"

Micah chuckled at the confusion on the man's face.

"Wes, I'm going to be gone for about ten days on Marshal business, do you think I could deputize you?"

"I… I'd be glad to, but I don't know if I could get the time off…"

"I'll talk to your boss. You can still work your shifts, but just know that you're on call."

"Well I'd appreciate it, Marshal, but I work for Mr. Merrar on the weekends, too."

"I'll call in a favor with Dave. Are you up for it?"

"I'd be honored, Marshal."

"Good, there's just one problem."

"What is it?"

"I think it's about time you stopped calling me, "Marshal", and started calling me by my given name."

"Sure thing," Wes replied with a chuckle. "When do you leave?"

"Thursday or Friday, it depends on when the deputy marshals currently transporting my prisoner get here."

"Where are you transporting him to?"

"I'm transporting her to Denver."

"Her?"

"Morgan Reid."

"Morgan Reid is a woman? A woman?! You mean it took them two months to track down a lady train robber?"

"That was the problem, no one knew she was a woman."

"What is this world coming to?"

Micah chuckled as he patted Wes on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, I don't think you'll have to worry about any female outlaws while I'm gone. If you're free sometime this afternoon, I'd appreciate it if you could swing by the office so we can go over a few things."

"...Sure," Wes slowly.

"I'll be seeing you."

As Micah turned to leave, he couldn't help but laugh as he heard Wes musing, "A woman… Morgan Reid, a woman…"

Micah walked back to his office just in time to see Mark and Lucas riding up.

"Morning, you two."

"Morning, Micah." Lucas greeted as they dismounted.

Micah looked at Mark who held a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Mark, what happened to you?"

"A woman…" was all Mark mumbled in response.

Micah turned to Lucas for an explanation.

"Mark just found out that Morgan Reid was a woman," Lucas chuckled as he shook his head.

"What time are you leaving, Lucas?"

"Just as soon as I get Mark settled over at Milly's, But I was wondering if you could do me a favor, Micah."

"If I can. What do you need, Lucas-boy?"

"Next Tuesday-"

"Sorry, Lucas. I'm leaving Thursday or Friday to help transport Morgan Reid to Denver."

"She's gonna be here?!" Mark exclaimed.

"For a few hours," Micah answered. "Sorry, Lucas."

"That's alright. Who are you leaving in charge?"

"Wes Smith."

"Wes Smith…" Lucas mumbled, trying to remember. "Works over at the hardware store and Dave's on the weekends?"

Micah nodded in response.

"Sorry I won't be here to help out, but from what I've heard, he's got a good head on his shoulders."

"That's alright, everything will work out."

"Well, Mark, you and I had better get you over to Milly's."

"Micah, when she gets here, will you let me know?" Mark asked.

"Who?"

"Morgan Reid."

"Mark, you don't need to be concerned with her."

"Oh, I'm not worried. I want to meet her, a woman train robber!"

"Mark, I want you to stay clear of the jail while she's here," Lucas ordered.

"But why, Pa?"

Lucas rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"See you later, Micah."

Micah chuckled as Mark and Lucas headed over to the general store, Lucas beginning to lecture his son.

 **3MC3**

"Just put it on my bill, Milly."

"Sounds good, Pete. Tell Jennifer I said hello."

"Will do!"

Milly went back to her books until she heard more customers entering the store. She looked up to see Lucas with an annoyed look on his face and Mark with a frown on his.

"Well you two certainly seem to be chipper this morning," Milly laughed. "What's wrong?"

"Pa won't let me near the jail and Morgan Reid is going to be in town!"

"Morgan Reid? Lucas?" Milly asked worriedly.

"Micah's helping transport her, she'll just be here overnight. And I don't want Mark at Micah's office while she is here."

"Of course. Mark, you'll be busy over at the ranch anyway, won't you?"

"Not if they get here at night and leave the next morning."

Milly let out a pleasant chuckle as Lucas rolled his eyes. Obviously, Lucas had failed in trying to explain to Mark his reasons for not wanting him there.

"Oh, I think we can find something to distract you," Milly stated. "Mark, why don't you drop your things in the back room? If you want to earn some candy, you can start with the inventory."

"Yes, ma'am!"

Lucas and Milly watched as Mark made his way to the back room.

"Lucas, how is Mark handling this?"

"Hard. It's hard for both of us after Wyoming. But this time he knows I'm coming back and this time he knows where I'm going to be."

"Lucas, be careful," Milly softly whispered before wrapping her arms around him.

Milly felt his strong arms enveloping her. He held her for a moment before letting go.

"How are you handling it?"

"Don't worry about me…"

"I'm going to worry whether you want me to or not," Lucas chuckled. "Milly, are you alright?"

"It's hard, Lucas. You nearly got yourself killed…" Milly said as she looked down.

"But I didn't," Lucas replied as he lifted her chin up. "And nothing is going to happen to me, I promise."

"Don't make promises you have no control over keeping," Milly chided with raised eyebrows.

"I'll be back in ten days, don't worry."

Milly nodded with a faint smile on her face.

"Thank you again for taking Mark. I was going to ask Micah, but-"

"Lucas you know I love having Mark around, he's always welcome. Besides, who else am I going to get to work for gumballs?"

"Just don't spoil him."

"Me?"

"Yes, you," Lucas replied with a gleam in his eye. "I better get going. Mark?" Lucas called.

Mark came from the back room, with the merchandise logs in hand.

"Yeah, Pa?"

"I have to get going. You mind Milly and Micah."

"Yes, Pa."

"And please…"

"I'll stay away from the jail…" Mark sighed.

"Thank you." Lucas pulled Mark into a hug before going on, "I love you, Son."

"Love you too, Pa. Have a good time!"

Milly and Mark watched Lucas leave the store. Milly turned and could see the concern on Mark's face.

"Ten days, Mark. He'll be back."

Mark slowly took in a deep breath before letting out.

"Yeah, he will."

"So, how's the inventory coming?"

"Well good, except I only see seven jars of canned pears, and this says you should have eight."

"...Oh, I forgot. I took one home and forgot to mark it down. Thanks for letting me know about it."

"Miss Milly, what would ever make a woman want to rob a train?"

"What?"

"You know, like Morgan Reid. Why does she do it?"

"I don't know her personal reasons, but I suppose she wants to do it for the same reason men do, for money."

"But… but she's a woman."

"Your point?"

"Well, I mean… obviously she's capable, but why… why waste a perfectly good life? Yeah, men waste their lives too… but… there's just something different about women, you know?"

"I do?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way. There's… there's something special about women. And it seems so much more of a shame when a woman throws her life away to pull guns on people. I don't know…"

"Well, I think I'll take that as a compliment, Mark."

"You know if you ever ended up in jail…"

"Me? In prison?" Milly chuckled.

"Well not saying you ever would. But hypothetically speaking, suppose you did. I bet you'd have a much better chance of escaping than the next person."

"Why do you say that, Mark?" Milly laughed.

"Well first of all, well… you're beautiful. I know what that does to my Pa."

Milly chuckled as she waited for Mark to go on.

"And secondly, your apple pies. No one could resist that."

"And just how would I make an apple pie if I were in prison?"

"You'd find a way, you're smart."

"Are we talking about me hypothetically escaping from prison, or are you trying not to ask about apple pie?"

"...Maybe a little bit of both," Mark admitted with a smile.

"Come on, let's get this inventory done and then we'll see if a pie happens to be in the oven when we go home for lunch."

"Miss Milly, I did mean what I said."

"Well thank you, Mark."

"...Miss Milly, do you know what happened when Pa went to Wyoming?"

Milly took a deep breath as she subconsciously but her lip.

"...Yes, Mark, I do. But it's up to your Pa whether to tell you or not. He loves you and will tell you when it's the best time for you to hear it."

"But what could be so bad that-"

"Mark, just give him time and let him tell you on his own. Now, are you going to help me or not? We don't want that pie burning."

"No ma'am!"

 **4MC4**

"Marshal?"

Micah looked up from his desk to see Wes Smith standing in the doorway.

"Come on in, Wes."

The man came inside and closed the door behind him. He swallowed hard as he stood in front of Micah's desk, mechanically opening and closing his fist repetitively.

"Alright, Wes, what's wrong?" Micah asked.

"I… I should've told you this earlier, but I have had a run in with the law."

"What happened?"

"... I was sixteen and started running around with a bad crowd. They… we broke into the church and destroyed it and tried stealing from the safe. Besides working all summer to help pay for the damage, I helped repair everything and then did some time cleaning up the rest of the town. The sheriff also gave us all two weeks jail time. I'm sorry I didn't say something earlier, I-"

"Don't sweat it, Wes. We all do stupid things. That was what, five, six years ago?"

"...Four."

"You paid your debt and have been doing a lot of good work here in North Fork. There's no shame in trying to move on from the past. I still need a standing marshal if you're up for the job."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Have you had any experience on the good side of the law?"

"Well, that's what made it kinda ironic. My father was a U.S. Marshal…"

Micah chuckled before replying.

"Well then, I take it you know a few things about the law then?"

"More than a few."

"This shouldn't take long then."

Micah went on to show Wes some basic things around the office, went over a few basic guidelines and told him how to send for help on the slight chance something would go wrong.

"Thanks, Micah. And thanks for letting me do this."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you. I don't like leaving North Fork on her own. Too many things can happen out here."

"Don't you usually have Lucas McCain step in for you?"

"Yes, I do. He had some business in California and left this morning."

"So he'll be gone, too."

"Don't worry, Wes, I'm sure you're capable should anything arise. But if you're not comfortable…"

"No, I'm fine. I actually would really like to do this."

"Do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Well, I figured it might be good for you to walk the town with me. You know everyone, but things might go better once I'm gone if I show you the rounds now."

"Sounds good."

The two men left the office and began walking the town as Micah asked Wes what brought the man to North Fork.

"Well after my run in it was hard sticking around back home. I just couldn't gain anyone's trust back. My Pa was more than angry with me when he got back from an assignment and found out what had happened. I just felt like I couldn't get ahead of life. So after two or three years, I left Utah. Traveled around for a while before settling down here. Mr. Johnson and Dave were both understanding of what had happened and gave me the jobs I needed to start saving."

"Saving for what?"

"A family. See, back home I grew up with Elizabeth Young and we… well, we fell in love. After what happened she and her father were both angry with me. Elizabeth was quick to forgive, Mr. Young not so much. But after a while, he realized my mistake was simply that; a mistake. But when it came down to me asking for her hand, he still didn't know if he could trust me or not. So we cut out a deal. He set a goal for me and said if I could honestly raise that money and give him good references by the end of three years' time, he would let me marry Elizabeth."

"How long ago was that?"

"Just about two years ago."

"Do you think you'll reach your goal?"

"I think so. I have a lot of hard work ahead of me and I need to pick up a few more odd jobs here and there, but hopefully, I'll be standing on his doorstep with the money a year from now."

"How does Elizabeth feel about all this? Quite the opposite of a dowry."

"Oh this money isn't for Mr. Young, he made that very clear. He wants me to have the money to take care of Elizabeth and he wants me to prove that I'm willing to work hard for it. I will admit I was discouraged when he named the amount, but she was worth it to me."

"Wes, I think you two will have a wonderful married life." Micah paused before going on, "You say your Pa is a U.S. Marshal?"

"Was, he died in the line of duty a few years back."

"I'm sorry…"

"That's alright. He was a good man, and I was proud of him. I just wished he would've lived to see the day when he could've been proud of me."

"From what I've seen, I'm sure he would be very proud."

"Micah, what made you want to become a Marshal?"

"Truth be told I was hungry for action when I was younger."

"And what made you stay a marshal once that hunger died down?"

"The need for justice. This world needs more people who are willing to stand up for what's right. There are too many people willing to kill somebody just for a few dollars or a fancy pistol. We need justice in this world, and we need people who are willing to fight for it."

"What brought you to North Fork?"

Micah let out a long bout of laughter before he answered the question.

"Pure luck. I was one of the best back in my day. Then I got shot and felt like I wasn't worth anything anymore. I was bumbling drunk when I stumbled into North Fork, and I was headed straight for the saloon. Lucas found me and offered me a place to stay and work. He and Mark sobered me up and taught me that just because one thing goes wrong in your life that doesn't mean you have the right to give up. I became North Fork's marshal and have been here ever since."

"Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you hadn't sobered up?"

"All the time. If Lucas and Mark hadn't found me I probably would've died not too long ago. I had no self-worth and was drinking myself to death. You ever wondered what would've happened had you not made it to North Fork?"

"A lot. Part of me thinks I would've found work somewhere else. Made a life. But… Mr. Merrar and Mr. Johnson have both taught me a lot about life. Lessons I never got from my own Pa. I think I might have given up hope if it weren't for me being here."

"Well, we're certainly glad to have you here. And when you marry that gal back home, don't forget you two will always be welcome here."

"I think she'd like it here. The only problem is, I don't know how her parents would feel about me taking her so far away."

"Miracles do happen."

 **5MC5**

"Mark, I was just coming to wake you," Milly said as she looked up from the stove to see Mark coming down the stairs.

"The smell of fresh bacon did that," Mark answered with a smile. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Would you mind grabbing the plates for me?"

"Sure." Mark reached for the plates as he went on, "Did Micah leave with the prisoner this morning?"

"How did you know she was in town? It was well past ten when the marshals got in."

"I wasn't sleeping well and saw them ride in, well, what I thought was them; it was dark. So he did leave?"

"Yes, he left not too long ago. Asked if he could grab some things from the store before they left." Milly paused before going on, "You didn't sleep well?"

Mark became uncomfortable as Milly looked at him. He knew he should be handling this better.

"Mark, it's alright to talk about it. I'm worried about him, too."

"But you're a woman."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Milly laughed.

"Women are supposed to worry. But-"

"And men can worry too. Micah's worried about North Fork, your Pa worries about you, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with you being worried about your Pa, Mark. It's perfectly natural."

"Miss Milly, why does trouble seem to be following us around?"

"Trouble follows everyone around, Mark. It's just been a rough patch for you and your Pa, it'll smooth out."

"Pa doesn't tell you much, does he?"

Milly was taken aback by Mark's question and blinked several times before responding.

"What do you mean?"

"My whole life has been this way, not just the last year and a half."

Milly gave Mark a gentle smile, knowing what he said held truth.

"I'm sorry, Mark. I know your life hasn't been easy, but… but often times it's the things in life that seem the worst that turn out to be the best thing for us."

"Pa said somethin' to that effect the other night."

"Well, your Pa was right." Milly set breakfast on the table as she went on, "What time do you think you'll be back to town this afternoon?"

"Two or three, depends on how much trouble the cattle are."

"Alright, just come over to the store when you get back. Do you want to say the blessing for us?"

"Sure."

After breakfast, Mark left to take care of things at the ranch. The first thing he took care of was the barn chores before realizing he needed to clean the chicken coup. Mark thought about putting it off until later in the week, but he knew himself better than that. If he didn't get it done now, he probably wouldn't get it done before his Pa got back.

After finishing the chicken coup, Mark rode out to the range to check on the cattle. Mark found several cows tangled in bushes or bogged down and it took a while before Mark had all of their stock accounted for.

Mark headed back to the house to shower and change his clothes before riding back into town; he knew Milly would have a fit if she saw him covered in dirt like he had been.

Quarter past three, Mark walked into the general store.

"Mark, I was starting to worry."

"Figured I needed a shower before you would let me step foot in here again," Mark replied with a grin.

"I take it you had a long day?"

"You could say that."

"Then how does fried chicken sound for supper?"

"I think that sounds just fine," a voice answered from the door.

Mark and Milly turned to see a man making his way to the counter.

"Can I help you?" Milly asked the man.

"Sorry to interrupt, I just need a few things, and I was wondering if you could help me find them."

"Well of course. What can I help you with?"

"I need a new lasso and some matches, some canned peaches too, if you have some."

"Mark, could you get those from the back please?"

"Sure."

Mark turned and left the room as Milly started gathering the other supplies.

"That's a right fine boy you've got there," the man complimented.

"He's not mine, Mark is a friend's son."

"I'm sorry, would've never guessed it, Mrs…?"

"Miss Scott. Milly Scott. What brings you to North Fork?"

"Just passing through, although I'll say, I'm sure glad we didn't pass your town up…" the man replied as he moved much too close to Milly.

Milly was getting ready to walk away when the man rested his hands on the counter, one on each side of Milly.

"If you'll excuse me…" Milly said as she averted her eyes.

"You're much too pretty to let go."

"She said to move," Mark demanded as he came from the back room.

"Mark-" Milly began, but she was interrupted by the man's laugh.

"And what are you gonna do about it?"

"She said to move," Mark said again as he walked closer to the man, standing as tall as possible.

"Boy, I suggest you run along back home before I take personal offense,"

"Well, I've already taken personal offense. Miss Scott kindly asked you to move and I suggest you do so," Mark stated as he put the cans on the counter.

Before Milly knew what was happening, the man punched Mark across the jaw, knocking him unconscious. He then turned and stole a kiss from Milly before taking his items and leaving.

Ignoring the man, Milly quickly went to Mark and tried waking him up.

"Come on, Mark, please!"

"Milly?" A woman called from the doorway.

"Abigail, run for Doc!"

The woman turned and ran out the door as Milly tried to continue to wake Mark, but to no avail.

When Doc arrived, Milly explained what had happened.

"Do you want me to get the deputy?" Abigail asked.

"We'll worry about that later. Doc?"

"It was a hard blow, but I think that bruise and a headache is all Mark is going to get. Is there somewhere we can lay him down?"

"I can set up a cot in the back?"

"Please do."

After Milly set up the cot, the three moved Mark to the back room.

Doc told Milly to simply keep an eye on Mark and to have Mark hold something cold on his jaw when he woke.

"Shouldn't be long before he does wake."

"Thanks, Doc."

As the doctor left, Milly turned her attention to Abigail.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"I just came by for some thread, and I'm glad I did! What kind of man does that?"

"A sorry excuse for one."

It wasn't long after the woman left that Mark came out from the back room.

"What happened?" Mark asked before it all came back to him.

"Mark, are you alright?"

Mark slowly nodded as he rubbed his jaw.

"You should know better than to do something like that!"

"He was going to force himself on you! I didn't do anything my Pa wouldn't have!"

Milly sighed and gently smiled as she put a hand on Mark's cheek.

"I know, and thank you. Now I want you to run to my house and grab a slab of meat from the cold cellar and hold it to your bruise for a while."

"You're worse than Pa!"

"I know," Milly chuckled.

That evening after closing up, Milly took Mark home for supper. She was in the middle of frying a batch of chicken when she let out a frustrated sigh.

"What is it?" Mark asked.

"I forgot to deposit money into the bank today. I need to wire my aunt some money tomorrow morning."

"I can run over to the bank and see if Mr. Hamilton is still there."

"Would you?"

"It's not a problem."

Milly went to the desk and pulled out an envelope for Mark.

"Please have him put it in my personal account."

"Sure thing."

Mark left the house and ran over to the bank, meeting John Hamilton at the door.

"Mark, where's the fire?" John chuckled.

"Miss Milly forgot to deposit some money today and she needs to wire it first thing tomorrow."

"Well, you caught me just in time then. Come on in."

"She said to put it in her personal account."

"I'll be sure to. Wh-" John stopped as he looked up and saw three masked men entering the bank, guns drawn.

Seeing Mr. Hamilton's expression, Mark turned around and froze.

"We don't want to cause no trouble," one man began.

Before Mark could stop himself he was blurting out, "You were the one at the store today!"

"Mark…" John warned.

The robber furrowed his brow and took a few steps forward.

"And you're that brat I taught a lesson to."

"Wasn't a lesson to be taught, all you gave me was a shiner."

John instinctively moved towards Mark when the man backhanded the boy, but the sound of a gun being cocked stopped him.

The man suddenly grabbed Mark and held him in a headlock as he pointed a gun to Mark's head.

"We'll make this easy," the man began, turning to John. Get the money from the vault and no one gets hurt. Do anything funny and the brat gets one in the head."

Mark couldn't help but let the fear show in his eyes, he knew this man meant what he said.

"Alright, just put the gun…" Hamilton started to reply.

The man simply shoved the gun into Mark's temple, causing Mark to cringe.

"Alright, I'll get it."

John Hamilton quickly did as he was told. One man followed him into safe while the other watched the window. A few minutes later, the on at the window turned around.

"Richards, the Marshal's coming!"

The man with Mark suddenly pulled Mark behind a desk, cupping Mark's mouth with one hand. The two other outlaws joined him as he told John to make the marshal go away.

"No funny business or the boy-"

"I know," John said.

For a moment, Mark tried struggling against the man that held him, but the man again pulled back the gun's hammer as he whispered for his partner to start tying Mark's hands behind his back.

"Mr. Hamilton, a little late for you to be open, isn't it?" Wes inquired as he entered the bank.

"I had some last minute business to take care of, didn't realize the time."

"Is there a back door I need to check later? Micah never said."

"Backdoor? …Yes."

"I'll be sure to check it. You feeling alright? You don't look very good."

"Just tired I suppose, I'll be glad to get home."

"Well, I'll leave you to your work then. Have a good night,"

"You too."

Everyone let out a deep breath as the door closed behind Wes. As the three outlaws and Mark came out, John saw that Mark was already tied up and gagged.

"Hurry and finish up," Richards ordered as he held Mark's collar with one hand and a gun to Mark's head with the other.

John Hamilton quickly put the money in the bags he had been given before handing the money over to the outlaws.

"Now let the boy go."

"In your dreams," Richards chuckled as one of the men knocked John out with the butt of his gun.

Mark started towards John, but Richards violently pulled Mark back.

"Where do you think you're going, boy?"

Mark tried to talk through his gag and pull out of Richards grasp, but both were useless.

"Richards, what are you doing?" The shortest of the group asked, obviously upset. "Leave the kid and let's go, I don't want a repeat of last time!"

"No, this brat is going to learn his lesson! Fuller, tie the banker up and let's go."

"Richards…" the man began to protest again.

Shoving Mark to the ground, Richards walked towards his accomplice.

"I'm calling the shots because I got us out of prison, you hear me? I won't put up with you questioning my every move, so you can either listen up or leave. I don't care which, but the money is staying with me!"

"Fuller, let me help you," the man bitterly answered.

Richards turned around to see Mark trying to make his way to the door. He came at Mark and lifted him off the ground by his shirt before backhanding Mark again.

"You try that again, and it'll be the death of you, ya hear?"

Mark didn't answer but just stared at the man before Richards hit Mark again.

"Ya hear?!"

Mark slowly nodded before Richards threw him again, but this time Mark's head hit the wall, knocking him out cold.

 **6MC6**

Milly again walked out onto the porch and heavily sighed as she looked up and down the street. She couldn't take it anymore and made her way over to the bank. She tried the door, but it was locked. The shades were drawn, prohibiting her from looking inside.

Milly turned around and crossed her arms as she looked down the road. Seeing Wes enter the Marshal's office, she crossed the street and walked inside.

"Miss Scott, can I help you?" Wes asked as he stood from the chair.

"Have you seen Mark?"

"Mark McCain? No, I haven't. Is something wrong?"

"He's staying with me while Lucas is out of town. I sent him to the bank to run an errand for me and he hasn't come back yet… I'm starting to worry."

"Maybe he just got sidetracked?" Wes suggested.

"Not with fried chicken cooking."

"How long ago did you send him over there?"

Milly looked at the clock before replying, "Just about an hour ago."

"Well I was at the bank about forty-five minutes ago, John was the only one there."

"Something's not right…"

"I can go out and look for him if you'd like," Wes volunteered.

"Would you? I'm probably making something out of nothing, but… I just have this feeling."

"It's no problem. I'll bring him by the house once I find him."

"Thank you."

Milly left the office and slowly walked back home, keeping an eye out for Mark.

As Milly entered the house she called for Mark hoping he was there, but she received no reply. Milly sat at the table and worried. Where would Mark go? Why wasn't he here? If something happened to Mark, what was she going to tell Lucas?

A half hour turned into an hour, and then two. It was dark when Milly stepped onto the porch for the umpteenth time, hoping Mark would come down the road at any moment.

Suddenly Milly heard a horse. She looked and only saw Wes coming up to the house.

"You didn't find him?" She asked as he came up the porch steps.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Scott, no sign of him. When I stopped by the livery, Nils said Mark's horse was still there."

"Where could he have gone?"

"I'm afraid you would know better than I would, ma'am." Wes paused before going on, "If the boy isn't back by tomorrow morning, I'll get a couple men together so we can start looking again."

"Thank you, Wes."

The deputy tipped his hat and said goodnight to Milly before riding back to the main part of town. He took care of his horse before heading back to the office and taking a seat at the desk.

He couldn't get out of his mind the worried look etched on Ms. Scott's face as he had left. When they found the boy he was going to give him an earful…

Wes slightly chuckled as he thought back on his own life. Mark McCain reminded him somewhat of himself when he was younger. The enthusiasm, the forgetfulness, the eagerness to get out of school. He just hoped Mark knew better than he had when it came to getting into trouble.

Wes tried sleeping that night, but rest didn't come easy. Every little sound woke him and he didn't go back to sleep easily.

When morning finally came, Wes was fixing coffee when he heard the door to the office open and close behind him. He turned to see Milly standing there, and it was clear she had gotten about as much sleep as he had.

"He still not back?" Wes inquired.

"No, he's not. Mark may be a mite forgetful, but he doesn't get into mischief and he certainly wouldn't miss supper! Something happened to the boy."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but I can tell you that something is wrong!"

"Alright, give me a few minutes to-"

"Deputy!"

Milly and Wes turned to see Grace Hopkins in the doorway, face as white as a sheet.

"Grace?" Milly worriedly asked.

"I was heading into the bank this morning like usual, but John hadn't opened the bank yet. I figured he was running late so I got the spare key and started inside… and I saw it!"

"Saw what?" Wes asked.

"Somebody dead is lying behind the desk!"

"Who?" Milly asked.

"I don't know! I saw his shoes and didn't go any further!"

The three ran over to the bank, the deputy leading the way. Once they got inside, Wes slowly approached the desk as Milly and Grace stood just inside the doors.

"John!" Wes suddenly exclaimed.

Milly suddenly rushed forward and came around the desk to see an unconscious John Hamilton tied up.

Milly ran for some water as Wes worked on the ropes. When Milly returned, Wes dumped the water on the man's face, causing Hamilton to rouse.

"John, are you alright?" Milly worriedly asked.

John shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. He looked to Wes, then Milly, then Grace before it started coming back to him.

"... I think so. Some men came in last night and-" John suddenly stopped and looked around. "Mark! Where's Mark?"

"Milly?" Grace called.

All three turned to see Grace standing there with Mark's hat in her hand. Milly took the hat and closed her eyes, trying to stop the tears.

"Mark was in here when the bank was robbed?" Wes asked as he helped the banker into a chair.

"He was running an errand for Milly and… and one of them certainly didn't take a liking to Mark."

"What do you mean?" Milly asked, fear in her voice.

"Mark said something about one of the men being at your store yesterday, Milly?"

"Oh no…"

"What?" Wes asked.

"A man came in yesterday and started making advances… Mark tried standing up to him but… Wes, the man threw a punch at Mark and knocked him out…"

"Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"I was too worried about Mark at the time. I was going to talk to you later, but…"

"Never mind. John, could you do me a favor and start calling a town meeting? That's if you're up to it."

"Takes more than a knock on the head to put me out of commission."

"Thanks."

"Wes, what are you going to do?" Milly asked as John left and Grace started straightening the office.

"Get a posse together, get some men to watch North Fork, and-"

"Deputy!"

Wes turned to see Amos storming into the bank.

"Amos?"

"Someone cut the lines! I can't send or receive any telegrams!"

"... And I guess I won't be wiring for help."

 **7MC7**

A man sat hiding behind a boulder on the McCain property, carefully watching the house down the hill. Hearing a horse he turned and waited for his partner to approach.

"Any trouble?"

"The town was still asleep, weren't nothing to it." The man waited a few moments before going on, "Have you seen anything yet?"

"Naw, the place looks deserted."

"But they said the sodbuster and boy would be here."

"Let's go check the house."

The men carefully made their way down the hill and crossed the yard. The smaller of the two men was getting ready to knock on the door when the other man grabbed his arm.

"You can't just knock on the door!"

"Why not? You've raised enough of a ruckus anyway." The man knocked on the door several times but received no answer.

With guns drawn the men quietly entered the house. The taller man checked the bedroom to find it empty.

"Now what?" He asked coming back to the front room.

"Now we go to town and figure out where they're at."

"I don't like it… something ain't right."

"Well I'm not throwing away a grand because you don't like it. Come on."

The men went back to their horses and slowly rode into town. As they rounded a corner, they saw a large crowd heading for the church.

The two men followed suit and slipped into the back of the church just as a man wearing a deputy badge called things to order.

"All right, settle down. Now we don't have a lot of time so I can't answer a bunch of questions, but here's what's going on. The bank was robbed last night and Mark McCain was taken hostage. I need men who are willing to join the posse to help me go after them. Then I also need a few men who are willing to stay behind and keep an eye on town. I also need a few more who are willing to keep an eye on things out on the McCain ranch."

"What for?" Someone called out.

"Most of us are ranchers or farmers and we know what can happen if things are let go for just a few days. Mark was taking care of the ranch while Lucas was gone, and things need to be kept in order there. If you want to join the posse, head over to the livery. If you want to help keep order here, go to Micah's office, and if you can help keep the McCain ranch functioning, meet me up here. I don't have time for questions."

The room exploded into conversation as people began moving about the room.

"What now?" The taller of the two men asked.

"I don't know, just let me think…"

"I don't have time for you to think!"

"Just quiet down, I… alright, I've got it."

"What?"

"Follow me."

The two men left the church and rode their horses towards the livery. They hid in the shadows for quite a while before they saw the posse heading out of town.

They casually trailed the posse, leaving enough distance so no one would be aware of their presence.

That night, they came upon the posse's camp.

"Have room for two more?"

Wes looked up from the campfire to see two travelers approaching.

"Come on in, make yourselves at home."

"Thank you… deputy?"

Wes nodded as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Temporarily deputy of North Fork."

"What brings all you out here? Some kind of posse?"

"Someone robbed the bank and took one of the local boys."

"How are the boy's parents handling it?" The man asked as he and his partner took a seat.

"Mother died a long time ago, the boy's father is out of town on business."

"You have any idea who done it?"

"No, but I can tell ya whoever it is will sure be sorry once we catch up to them."

"What do you mean?"

"You ever heard of the Rifleman?"

"Who hasn't?"

"It's his boy they took. When Lucas gets back… I pray those cell bars are strong enough."

"When is the boy's father due back?"

"Not sure, I'd guess sometime next week."

"...How close do you think you are? To the outlaws, I mean."

"I'm not sure, we made up some ground, but they've got a six or seven hour lead on us."

"You figure they're heading to the border?"

"Looks like it."

"I wish we could lend you a hand, but James and me gotta keep moving on, his wife, my sister, is expecting her first and is due any time now."

"Congratulations," Wes offered. "Where's home?"

The man turned to James to answer.

"Just east of here, in Texas."

"Well I hope you get there in time." Wes waited a moment before going on, "You're welcome to the coffee and fire, but I've got to get some sleep, we're breaking camp at daybreak."

"Thank you for your hospitality, deputy. You've been… most helpful."

"My pleasure."

 **8MC8**

"Thanks for coming out here, Micah. Sorry to pull you away from North Fork."

"I understand, Tom."

"Bet Mark was looking forward to staying in town with Lucas standing in for you."

"Actually, Lucas is in Northern California on business right now."

"Mark went with him, right?"

"No, he stayed in town with a friend. Why…?"

Tom Benton let out a long sigh as he leaned back in his chair.

"Lucas sure picked a fine time to leave town."

"Tom, what's going on?"

"Dan Hewitt escaped a few days ago."

"Dan H- Tom, he should be dead!"

"Somehow he got off with a life sentence. Between you and Lucas stopping their plan to rob the bank and Mark having been a witness… I'm just concerned."

"Just concerned?" Micah asked incredulously. "Tom, what else?"

"...He was last seen heading towards the general direction of North Fork. Micah, I would suggest you try to get Lucas out of whatever business he's taking care of."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"He just escaped a few days ago and I received word two days ago. I tried wiring Lucas in North Fork, but it wouldn't go through."

Micah let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head.

"I'll head out first thing tomorrow and try to get some wires out, too."

"Tell Lucas I'm sorry."

"...You weren't in charge of the prison, Tom. There's nothing you could've done."

Benton sighed before standing and grabbing his gun belt from the desk.

"You want to join me for dinner?"

"As long as you're not cooking."

"Come on, Micah," Tom chuckled as he gave him a slap on the back. "I'll treat you to one of the finest dinners money can buy."

Over the course of the evening conversation varied until finally landing on the subject of what had happened when Tom Benton was in North Fork last.

"I am sorry about all the ruckus I caused."

"Lucas explained and I simmered down after a while. I will say, I was at quite a loss when you tossed him those keys!"

"Micah, about Lucas. How is he handling life without Margaret? I could only gather so much while I was there."

"He has his days, but for the most part he and Mark have been able to make a new life for themselves. They miss her, but they've accepted it."

"Lucas seems to have quite a bond with the boy."

"He certainly does. If something were to ever happen to the boy… well, Mark's the only reason Lucas was able to keep going after his wife died."

"It was strange seeing Lucas when I came through North Fork. He had so much fire inside of him while he was in the army. I thought he'd get out of the service and cause all sorts of trouble. But watching him with his son… it was different than what I expected, that's for sure."

"As you saw, Lucas has a good, level head on his shoulders… until it comes to Mark, that is. I really hope Hewitt leaves North Fork alone and just heads for the border."

"What do you think his intentions are?"

"Like you said, Lucas and I arrested him, Mark saw the whole thing, and not to mention the fact that he probably blames us for Laurie's death. If it wasn't so late I'd be on my way to California."

"What kind of business was Lucas dealing with?"

"Cattle business. He had to go as a representative for our area."

"You think he'll be able to leave in the middle?"

"He's nearing the end of the meetings, it won't be that difficult, especially under the circumstances."

"I wish there weren't any circumstances to consider…"

"Tom, it's not your fault."

"We need a better prison system down there, this just isn't working. Too many escapes, too many reduced sentences… it's asking for trouble. Washington is torn on statehood and this type of situation doesn't help matters."

"You're preaching to the choir, Tom. I know things need to change down there, but until we get some of the resources we need… it's just not going to happen. We need better judges, too. That's half the battle. If the judge would've gone through with his sentence…"

"You can't blame the judge on this one, Micah. The Governor reduced his sentence, not the judge."

"I can't figure the man out, Benton. One week he's the best thing that ever happened to New Mexico and the next it's like the devil himself took over."

"I know what you mean."

After dinner, Micah checked into a hotel for the night and got a few hours of shut-eye. The next morning he sent a telegram to Milly and Lucas before mounting up and riding west.

It was a long two-day ride that gave Micah a lot of time to think. Too much time. He remembered the way Hewitt had glared at Mark while the boy gave his testimony at the trial. He remembered the threats he had made towards Lucas and himself when the verdict was delivered. At the time, they sounded like empty threats coming from a man who was sentenced to hang. Now they didn't sound so empty.

After arriving in Smithflat, California, Micah stabled his horse before making inquiries about the cattlemen's meeting. He was eventually directed to the town hall and made his way inside to find the building bustling with activity. He tried several meeting rooms before finally recognizing the voice of his friend at the end of the hall. Micah slipped into the back of the room and got the attention of one of the attendants.

"Can I help you?" The man whispered.

"When Lucas McCain is done speaking, I need you to have him come out to the hall."

"And who are you?" The attendant asked, implying Micah better have a good reason for trying to interrupt the meeting.

"Marshal Micah Torrance. It's urgent; I wouldn't have ridden for two days if it wasn't."

"I'll see what I can do."

The attendant watched Micah leave the room and waited for Lucas to take his seat before approaching the man. He spoke in a whisper, not wanting to disturb the meeting.

"Mr. McCain, there's a marshal here to see you. He said it's urgent and he's waiting out in the hall."

Lucas nodded in confusion before the attendant walked away. The rancher scribbled a note and gave it to the man sitting next to him before slipping out of the meeting.

"Micah?" Lucas called in surprise as the door shut behind him. "What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you get my telegram?"

"No, why? And I thought you were delivering a prisoner to Denver."

"I was, Lucas. Tom Benton was there and informed me that Dan Hewitt's sentence had been reduced to life in prison and that Hewitt escaped from prison just a few days ago."

"He what?!" Lucas exploded.

"You heard me."

"Dan Hewitt, the man that killed a preacher and his wife; Dan Hewitt, the man that kidnapped my son and threatened to do much more than that if he ever got out of prison, is out there wandering the streets?"

"I'm sorry, Lucas."

Lucas was trying not to explode as he saw something else on Micah's face.

"What is it, Micah? What aren't you telling me?"

"Hewitt was last seen heading for North Fork."

Lucas didn't need to hear any more. He quickly went back into the meeting and explained to one of his trusted associates what was going on before he and Micah half ran out of the town hall and towards the livery.

"Micah, why are you here and not headed back home?"

"Because I was afraid a telegram wouldn't get through to you, and it's obvious I was right in that concern. Lucas, I care about Mark like he was my own family, I wouldn't do anything I thought would jeopardize his safety. Mark's at home, with Milly and a town full of people. I sent Milly a wire briefly explaining and telling her to keep Mark in town and with someone at all times. And I wasn't going to let you ride this whole trip back by yourself, I know you too well for that, Lucas."

Lucas let out a long sigh as he turned towards his friend.

"...Thanks, Micah. I just hope we're not too late."

 **9MC9**

Mark woke to the feeling of someone pulling him off a saddle. He groaned as pressure was put on his ribs and tried keeping his balance as he was set on the ground.

"Well, look who decided to finally wake up," Richards laughed as he approached Mark.

The man took Mark's chin in his hand and took a good look at each side of Mark's face, grinning to himself.

Mark's head hurt too much to fight against the man; all he wanted to do was go to sleep.

Richards started to untie the ropes that bound Mark's wrists as he spoke.

"Get the fire started and take care of the horses, and don't make me regret untying you."

Mark just slowly nodded in response. He felt too sick to try anything and couldn't even think straight enough to figure a way to run away.

"Fuller, go with the kid to collect firewood."

Richards gave Mark a shove causing Mark to trip and fall. The outlaw laughed before giving the boy a kick in the ribs and telling him to get going.

As Mark slowly stood up, he began to take in his surroundings. They were in the middle of the woods somewhere. Three men, four horses, and only a small amount of light from the moon.

Fuller came up behind Mark and gave him a gentle push, warning him to get moving. As Mark worked, he realized the only reason his ribs would be hurting this bad was if he had been thrown across the saddle; something he had experienced one time too many.

The longer Mark was awake, the more his mind cleared, allowing him to ask Fuller questions.

"Where are we?"

"Just a few hours from North Fork."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Wherever Richards wants. And if I were you I'd do his bidding. The last kid that got on the man's nerves ending up taking a swim in the river, tied up."

Mark looked at the man in disbelief, but on the inside, he was panicking.

"...What kind of person…" Mark began, but wasn't able to make himself finish.

"Look, boy, Richards is not one to be messed with. He has a past ten times worse than your worst nightmare. And if you don't watch it, Richards will be your worst nightmare."

"What made him so angry?"

"Stop asking questions and get to work, we don't have all night."

Mark nodded and continued to collect firewood. Fuller walked him back to the camp and ordered him to start building the fire. As he did, Mark carefully watched the outlaws as they unpacked their supplies.

Richards was a big and tall man; Mark guessed him to be an inch or two shy of his Pa's height. There was a scar that started on the left side of his forehead and disappeared behind his brown hair. The man was clean shaven, leaving his cruel, evil grin well exposed. The man walked with authority, but in his eyes… Mark knew there was something else there.

Fuller, the man that had taken Mark to get the firewood, was about six feet tall. He walked with slumped shoulders and a discontented frown underneath his mustache. He was scared of Richards and the other man, but had a fire inside of his eyes; one that showed how much he disliked the other two men. He would occasionally look at Richards, then at Mark, then back at Richards before shaking his head. Mark couldn't deny the amount of fear he felt; he couldn't help but wonder if Richards' plan was to kill him.

The third man was short, but had big muscles one could see stretching his shirt. Mark had heard the other men refer to him as "Tips", something that seemed to be a nickname. The man had no problem arguing with Richards or stating his opinion, but seemed to know when to give in. Tips had a short temper and was constantly yelling at Fuller to quit his whistling.

After Mark had finished with the fire and horses, he sat on a fallen log and watched as the outlaws cooked their supper; all the while trying to look for a way to get out of there.

"So kid," Richards began, taking a bite of his food.

Mark jumped, having been lost in thought. Richards laughed before going on.

"What's your name?"

Mark shook his head and looked in the opposite direction, but soon heard Richards walking his way. Just as Mark was looking up at the man, Richards hit Mark, causing him to fall off the log. Richards grabbed Mark's shirt in a fist and pulled him up, leaving mere inches between their faces.

"I'll ask you one more time, boy. What's your name?"

"Mark," he slowly replied. "Mark McCain."

"Mark," the man began to mimic in a mocking voice, "Mark Mc-" Richards stopped and glared at the boy. "McCain… you don't have any relation to The Rifleman, do you?"

Mark shrugged, unsure if mentioning his relation to his Pa would help or make things worse.

"You don't know?" The man spat. "You are or you ain't!"

"What difference does it make?"

Richards threw Mark back on the ground and went back to where he had been sitting as he let out a cruel laugh.

"Boys, I think we got ourselves a golden ticket."

"What do you mean, Richards?" Fuller asked in confusion.

"If I remember hearin' right, The Rifleman has a son. And who's gonna shoot at us, with a boy, the Rifleman's son with us? We wait a few days, let word get around…"

"It won't make no difference!" Mark yelled. "My Pa isn't even in North Fork; he has no idea what's going on!"

"I'm sure your Ma will let him know."

"I don't have one," Mark replied in a quieter tone.

"Well then Miss Scott can let him know. The point is, either way, we've got a hostage and we can use him."

"Use him how?" Tips asked, unsure if he liked this idea or not.

"If we leave him tied up at the hideout and go about our usual business, we don't have to worry about getting caught. Sooner or later word will get out about him and if the law catches up with us, we just tell them they can let us go or our partner will send them the boy's body."

"But we need all three of us to pull a bank job," Fuller protested. "Where are we going to get the fourth man?"

"You idiot," Tips grunted. "There is no fourth man, we just leave the kid tied up."

"But what if they don't listen?" Fuller asked.

"Then the boys dies up there from starvation, ain't our fault," Richards sneered.

As the men continued talking, Mark knew he had to get out of there. He had been used as a pawn too many times, and he wasn't going to let that happen again.

Mark began to quietly inch his was from the camp, minding the twigs and the sticks as much as he could. Mark's target was the horses picketed several yards from the fire. He knew if he could get to one and spook the others away he would have a chance at escaping.

The farther Mark crept from camp, the more the shadows hid him; but the fact that he wasn't anywhere to be seen was evident to the outlaws.

"Where's the kid?!" Richards boomed.

The three outlaws started looking around and Mark saw them starting to make their way towards the horses.

It was now or never; Mark dashed for the horses and jumped onto one of them.

"Yah!" Mark yelled, but he didn't make it far.

Before Mark knew what was happening, he saw a lasso drop around him and suddenly felt himself landing hard on the ground.

Dazed, Mark couldn't move. His body ached all over as Tips came running up and started pulling Mark back to camp. He started to backhand the boy, but Richards stopped him.

"No, he's mine," Richards insisted; a grin on his face.

Richards sent a fist flying into Mark's midsection, causing him to drop to the ground. The outlaw let his anger out, tearing into Mark any way he pleased.

Only half conscious, Mark finally felt himself being tied to a saddle in between Tips and Richards' bedrolls.

"Boy, I only have so much patience," Richards growled as he moved on to gagging Mark. "And I'm just about out of it. I've killed before and I'm not afraid to do it again."

Richards walked away, grinning at his handiwork.

Lying there in the darkness, Mark couldn't ignore the pain. The pounding in his head and ache of his muscles denied him the luxury of sleep. As Mark thought about all that had happened in the last few hours; he recalled yelling at Richards that Lucas wasn't in North Fork. It was only then that Mark realized his Pa wouldn't know what had happened for a few days.

It was then that Mark realized Lucas was a lot more than a few hours behind them.

It was then that Mark realized he may never see his Pa again.

 **10MC10**

"Lucas-boy, we've got to stop," Micah continued to insist. "We're both falling asleep in the saddle."

"We've got to get home, Micah. Just a few more-"

"No, Lucas. We've been riding all day. The horses are exhausted, we're exhausted, and we need to rest. We'll break camp at first light."

"First light," Lucas replied, pointing a finger at his friend before giving in and dismounting.

They quickly made camp before getting in their bedrolls. Yet as Micah looked over to see Lucas, he saw his friend sitting up, staring into the fire.

"Lucas, I'm sure the boy is fine," Micah tried to offer.

"... I just don't like it, Micah. What if he's already been to North Fork? What if… what if he's done something to Mark?"

"If is a troublesome word."

"Micah, this is serious!"

"And it's still true, perhaps even more so. Lucas, don't dwell on it. Mark is surrounded by a town full of people that would recognize Hewitt, and I'm sure Milly hasn't let Mark out of her sight since she got the telegram."

"That's the other part that worries me. What if she gets dragged into all this?"

"Lucas, I'm worried too, but that's no cause to let our imaginations run wild. We'll find out soon enough what Hewitt's intentions are."

"Not soon enough."

Lucas lied down and turned onto his side, his back towards Micah.

Micah let out a heavy sigh. He was worried about Lucas, Mark, Milly… everyone. But he knew he had to stay positive for Lucas's sake.

Micah thought back to his conversation with Benton a few days prior.

" _If something were to ever happened to the boy…"_

Micah remembered back to the ordeal with Chaqua. The Indian had kidnapped Mark and by the time Lucas got there, he was so deranged… Micah remembered the guilt and remorse in Lucas's voice when he recounted almost killing the man. He had come close again when it came to the three men who had used Mark as a hostage to rob the bank not too long ago. Micah didn't want to see Lucas in that state again. He knew how much Mark meant to him… He knew Lucas would do anything to protect his son. But what worried Micah was that he knew Lucas was capable of the unimaginable if it came down to avenging the life of his son. He prayed it would never come to that.

Micah settled into his bedroll and tried to sleep. It wasn't long before exhaustion took over, but sleep didn't come as easy to Lucas.

The rancher silently lied in his bedroll, trying not to think about the havoc Hewitt could cause in his life. He didn't want to think about the "what ifs", but they had already presented themselves in Lucas's imagination. He knew it wouldn't do any good to worry; but what father didn't worry about their child? If Hewitt did show up, would Mark know to be careful? Would he handle things right? Would he stay out of sight? If Hewitt did show up… Lucas couldn't help but wonder what the man would do to his son. The man was a cold-blooded killer who should've swung fifteen years ago, but now he was running free… running towards North Fork.

Morning couldn't come fast enough. At daybreak, the marshal and rancher broke camp and hit the trail once again. Few words were spoken between the two friends; both only had one thing on their minds. Getting to North Fork.

It was noon when Micah again called for a stop. The two men watered their horses and gave them a while to rest. Micah could tell by Lucas's mannerisms how irritable the man was getting and knew something had to be said.

"Lucas, I know you're worried. Rightly so. But you've got to get a grip."

"What do you mean?"

"When you get back to North Fork you can't be like this, you're going to have to have a cool head or you're going to worry Mark."

"And if Hewitt beats us there?"

"Then you're going to have to have a good head on your shoulders if and when we face him. He's smart, Lucas and is going to prey on your emotions if you can't get them under control."

"They are under control!"

Micah just raised his eyebrows and slightly raised his hands.

"If you say so…"

Lucas let out a deep sigh as he crossed arms. Finally, he gave in and turned towards Micah.

"Alright, I get it. Micah, why is it that every time I think I'm done with someone in my life, they have to show up again?"

"One or two people is a far cry from "every time", Lucas-boy. You gotta have faith. The Good Lord can do a much better job of keeping an eye on Mark than you."

"That doesn't change the fact that Mark's not only my God-given responsibility, but my son!"

"I know, Lucas. And he always will be. But you can't be everywhere at once and you have to accept that."

"... I'm trying, Micah. But I can't lose Mark."

"Everything is hypothetical at this point, Lucas. All we know is that a man fitting Hewitt's description was seen heading in the general direction of North Fork, which is also the general direction of a lot of places- including the border. We're taking precautions, but I'm gonna tell you what you tell Mark all the time. Don't let that wild imagination of yours get you into trouble."

"Thanks, Micah."

"Come on, we have a ways to ride yet."

Micah and Lucas remounted their horses and started down the trail again. Though worry was still visible in the rancher's face, Micah knew Lucas was getting himself somewhat under control.

They didn't stop again until the sun had almost set, this time in a small town about a day's ride from North Fork.

Micah and Lucas stabled their horses before registering at the hotel.

They noticed the streets were eerily quiet and asked the desk clerk why no one seemed to be out.

"There's some sickness going around, no one seems to know what it is. Besides that, the army is here on some business," the woman replied. "I'd suggest you get out of here as soon as possible. The army's declared martial law and I'm sure you don't want to get whatever this illness it."

Micah and Lucas thanked the woman, got something to eat, and turned in.

The next morning, Micah woke to an argument in the lobby. Slipping on his gun belt, the Marshal quickly made his way from the hotel room. He could hear Lucas arguing with someone, but wasn't close enough to understand what they were arguing about. As he rounded a corner, Micah saw Lucas standing inches from an Army Colonel.

"Mr. McCain, I'm sorry about your situation, but until this sickness is figured out, no one leaves this town! Too many people have died! If you don't stand down, I will have you detained!"

 **11MC11**

It was an hour before dawn and two men slipped from the posse's camp unnoticed.

"You know, that deputy looked kinda young to be leading the posse."

"Your point?"

"...The man's probably got enough concerns. I mean standing in for the marshal and a bank robbery happens. None of this is his fault, why should he get caught in the middle?"

"He took the job, he can take the ramifications.'

"I just have this gut feeling."

"You always have "this gut feeling", everything will be fine."

"Bret, I still don't understand why you had us share camp with the posse."

"Because we needed information. If we're gonna get to the kid before they do, we have to know what's going on."

"What if that deputy gets suspicious?"

"It'll be too late. We're two steps ahead of them, and it will take them a while yet to round up all the horses."

"I just don't like it. Now every one of them knows what we look like."

"Stop worrying, James."

"That's what you said last time we got ourselves into a heap of trouble. It took us three days to get out of that mine!"

"I wasn't the one who dropped and shattered the lantern." Bret let out a long sigh as he looked into the distance. "James, I don't like this any more than you do but we need the money."

"Ma must be rolling in her grave…"

"She wouldn't be there had she not worked herself to death, and we both know who's fault that is!"

"Pa shot first."

"Says McCain and a two-bit saddle tramp. You and I both know that if this were anyone else, I wouldn't have anything to do with it. But McCain needs to pay and we need money. You've got a baby on the way and I've got doctor's bills to pay from Melissa's illness."

"I just don't think it's right that the kid has to get mixed up in all this."

"Nothing's gonna happen to the kid, he's just a way to get McCain there." Bret stopped his horse and turned towards his brother. "Look, we don't have much time. Make your choice now; you can ride home or stick with me. But three months from now, all that extra cash is gonna come in handy."

"But how are we gonna explain to Melissa and Ellen where the money came from?"

"We spend in slow, subtle like. Don't make a huge fuss and if they ask questions… well, we can just say a rich uncle died."

"I don't like the thought of lying to my wife."

"You lied about this trip, what's the trouble now? James, why are you getting cold feet all of a sudden?"

"I'm just wondering if maybe McCain really didn't have any choice but to kill Pa. If we go through with this and turn the boy over to them… Bret, he'll have to grow up without a Pa and you know it."

"You heard what Murphy said. McCain forced Pa into it. Look, I'm sorry about the kid, but he'll have plenty of family to take care of him, I'm sure. But are you really willing to go back home and say you had a chance to get justice for Pa, but got scared and didn't go through with it? Don't you want to tell your children that Pa got justice? Or are you just as bad as McCain? Turning on the helpless! Again, think of what that money could do for your family!"

The younger brother thought for a long while before slowly nodding his head.

"Do you have a plan?"

"I always have a plan."

"Sure, but is it any good?"

"I reckon it'll do."

The two men continued to ride as Bret began to explain what he had in mind.

"Whoever has the kid is headed straight for Lone Canyon, so that's where the posse is gonna end up. We need to get them out of the way, first."

"Six against two? Are you crazy?!"

"We just need to divide and conquer. Once we get to the canyon I want you to take the dynamite and go on foot."

"I'll do a lot of things, Bret, but I won't kill anyone!"

"I know, you're not going to. I just want you to cut off their exit at the end of the canyon. Then circle back and wait for them to get about halfway through the canyon. I want you to set dynamite off too far away to kill anyone, but if we can spook the horses, that'll set the posse back."

"What about you?"

"I'll take the horses and make it look like the robbers met up with us and then like we split. They'll take two or three men and I'll make sure they get detained."

"And no one gets killed?"

"No one gets killed."

"...Alright. How far until we get there?"

"I'd say about an hour."

"You think they got the telegraph lines fixed in North Fork yet?"

"How should I know? Maybe, maybe not. What does it matter?"

"Just thinking if they did get them fixed, they've probably wired for extra help. We could be facing a lot more than six men."

"No one knows who we are, what we've done, or what we plan to do. In two days this whole thing will be over with and we won't have anything to worry about.

"You never told me how you got us this… "job" in the first place."

"What does it matter?"

"I'm about to stop a deputized posse from doing their job and kidnap a kid, and I'd like to know how we got into this mess."

"You don't need to worry about it."

The man eyed his brother suspiciously as he thought about the last few weeks.

"Something happened on that… "business trip", didn't it?"

"What business trip?"

"The business trip you took to San Antonio."

"...Nothing happened except business. And it isn't any of your business!"

"You're lying to me, Bret. I can hear it in your voice."

"... I got mixed up in a little bit of trouble, that's all."

"What kind of trouble?"

"Gambling trouble."

"This doesn't boil down to McCain and Pa at all! You're just trying to settle some gambling debts!"

"What I said about Pa and McCain still stands!"

"No, it doesn't. It never has; even Ma knew that. Throw away your life if you want, I'm done."

James began to turn his horse around as his brother yelled after him.

"Where are you going?! What do you think you're doing?! James, you're going to regret this!"

"I'll have bigger regrets if I stay with you. So long, "brother"."

 **12MC12**

"The horses!"

Wes and the rest of the posse jumped out of bed to find their horses all missing.

"They bite through the rope?" Wes asked as he came up to where the horses should've been.

"...No," Wyatt Jones replied as he examined the rope. "Nothing's wrong with the rope. _Someone_ must have not tied the knots tight enough!"

"Don't look at me!" Oliver yelled. "You checked my work!"

"Are you saying this is my doing?" Jones retaliated.

"It doesn't matter," Wes stated as he stepped between the two men. "Let's just round the horses up and get going. The sun will be all the way up by the time we're ready to break camp."

The posse split up in groups of twos and began the search for the horses. Half an hour had passed before the last two arrived back at camp, riding double.

"Oliver, where's your horse?"

"Broke a leg," the man replied as he dismounted. "We had to put her out of her misery."

"That presents a problem…"

"I'm sorry, Wes, but I can't ride double with someone the rest of the time; we'd slow you down."

"I know. Drake, I want you to take Oliver back to town. Get some fresh horses and supplies."

The men nodded in response before starting to gather their gear. Ten minutes later the posse broke camp. Drake and Oliver headed back towards North Fork while the other four continued to trail the outlaws.

"Wes, whatever happened to those two strangers?"

"How could I be so stupid?!" Wes exclaimed, followed by a loud groan.

"Don't blame yourself, none of us were suspicious."

"You think they're part of the group that robbed the bank?" Another man asked.

"Based on these tracks I'd say they were. Looks like they were headed to meet up with their cohorts."

The men rode in silence for a while longer before they noticed one set of tracks branching off from the others.

"Do we follow him?" Jones asked.

Wes stopped his horse and thought for a long moment. He wasn't sure what to do; he had never led a posse before. He didn't even know why he volunteered to be deputized.

"... I don't know. Ted, what do you think?"

"That one rider isn't going to have the money or Mark with him. I say we stick together and follow the main trail."

Wes nodded in agreement and continued to follow the tracks. The posse rode in silence, concentrating on the trail ahead of them. Several hours had passed before they sat at the entrance to a canyon.

"We'd be sitting ducks," Jones grumbled.

"But this isn't just about money," Wes said as he urged his horse forward.

The posse continued into the canyon, constantly scanning the ridge above them; repeatedly looking to the large boulders that lined their path.

The eerie silence of the canyon was suddenly broken by a rifle shot and Wes's cry of pain as he fell out of the saddle.

The other three men jumped off their horses and ran towards the deputy in an attempt to pull him to safety.

Before they could, another shot was fired, hitting Ted in the back.

Jones and Sneed already had their weapons drawn but didn't see a target to fire at. They drug their friends to safety, all the while expecting to hear another rifle shot, but one never came. Jones and Sneed did they best they could to bandage the other two men's wounds.

"What now?" Jones asked, staring at the two unconscious men.

"What now?" Sneed asked incredulously. "What else can we do? We have to get them back to North Fork!"

"And Mark?"

"... I'm afraid there's not much we can do about that, now. We can try coming back with more men later, but they need Doc, bad!"

"...So how are we going to get them to Doc?"

"Stay here, I'm going to see what I can find to help us construct a travois."

After doing the best they could to make two travoises, the men carefully moved Ted and Wes before heading back out of the canyon.

Jones and Sneed were constantly looking over their shoulders, always expecting to hear a gunshot behind them, but one never came.

At sundown the men stopped and made camp, rechecking the wounds.

"Sneed, how's Ted?"

"I'm alive, thank you very much." Ted weakly replied. "...Wes?"

Jones let out a heavy sigh as he turned towards the other men.

"Not too good. He lost a lot of blood."

"Did you wrap it with something?"

"Of course we did," Jones replied, a little annoyed. "And you should be resting!"

"Who shot at us?"

"We don't know. Probably whoever robbed the bank."

"What about Mark?"

"Didn't see any sign of the boy."

"...There wasn't a ransom," Sneed began, "And they haven't let him go… do you think they could have killed the boy?"

"I pray not," Ted answered. "Do either of you know when Lucas was due back?"

"No…" Jones sighed, not wanting to think about what Lucas's reaction would be.

Sneed shook his head as images of an infuriated Lucas McCain filled his head.

"Whether they killed the boy or not, I don't want to know what Lucas is going to do if he ever catches up with them."

"Pray Lucas doesn't have a chance to catch up with them…"

Sneed and Jones watched as Ted slowly fell back asleep.

Sneed went to fix the fire as Jones came up behind him.

"He's right, you know. Lucas isn't going to be in his right mind if Mark's not back in North Fork by the time he is."

"I know. When we get back to town, who else do you think we can get to join the posse?"

"I don't know, but we'll find someone."

"...Do you really think they killed the boy?"

"I really hope not."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"...Why would they keep him alive and not send a ransom?" Sneed shrugged. "But like I said, I really hope not."

 **13MC13**

"Milly!"

Milly jumped as she looked up from her books. She let out a deep breath as she shook her head.

"Milly, are you alright? I called your name three times."

"I'm sorry, Abigail. I... I just haven't been able to think straight the last few days."

"You're driving yourself crazy with worry, that's what you're doing."

"Abigail, what am I supposed to do? They still don't have the lines fixed. I can't wire Lucas, or Micah, or anyone else! Lucas is going to be furious when he gets back and Mark could be anywhere and… and…"

Abigail could see the tears welling in her friend's eyes. She could see the worry written all over Milly's face.

"And you're feeling guilty?"

Milly broke down crying on the counter as Abigail came around and put her arms around Milly.

"Milly this isn't your fault. You can't blame yourself any more than you can blame me or Mark or-"

"But I was the one who sent Mark to the bank! I could've waited until morning… it wasn't that urgent. Dinner was almost done and if I hadn't-"

"If you hadn't sent the boy over there, John might have tried something and gotten himself shot. Outlaws don't take hostages for no reason, I'm sure they'll send a ransom or let him go or something. You'll see."

"And what do I tell Lucas? I was supposed to take care of Mark!"

"Lucas won't blame you, Milly. You weren't the one who tried to rob the bank. You weren't the one who pulled a gun, and you weren't the one that kidnapped Mark."

"I might as well have…"

"Milly, stop this! This is not your fault and when Lucas gets home he doesn't need to spend time convincing you of that. It will be alright!"

"And if it isn't?"

"Don't give up faith, Milly. You can't. The posse will be back any day now and I'm sure they'll have Mark with them."

"I hope so, Abigail. When Neff Packer had Mark kidnapped… Micah and I have never seen Lucas that way."

"And you?"

"... Mark's like a son to me. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to him."

"Milly-"

The conversation was suddenly interrupted by a man in the street yelling, "Someone get the doctor!"

Abigail and Elizabeth ran from the store to see the posse making its way to the clinic. Elizabeth ran to the hotel where Doc had last been seen as Milly ran up to the men.

"What happened?"

"We were ambushed." Jones steadily replied as he brought his horse to a stop and began helping Sneed carry the wounded men inside.

"...And Mark?"

"No sign."

"How bad…?"

"It's not too good."

Milly watched helplessly as the wounded men were placed on different examination tables.

Doc came running inside and didn't bother asking questions; he could see what had taken place.

"Milly, I need your help."

Milly slowly nodded and began taking orders from the doctor. The two worked, Milly forgetting and Doc ignoring the two other men that still stood in the office.

The doctor first quickly examined both men to determine who to help first. After taking a brief look at both injuries, the doctor turned his attention to Ted and tried to remove his bullet.

Twenty minutes had passed when Milly turned and looked at Wes.

"Doc, Wes!" Milly exclaimed, seeing the motionless body not breathing.

"I know," Burrage calmly replied.

"You know?!"

"There was nothing I could do."

Milly could see the pain, the guilt in the doctor's voice.

Doc dropped the bullet into a jar before sighing heavily and going on.

"He was as good as dead, and if I didn't take care of Ted and stop his bleeding, he would be too." Looking to Jones, Doc went on. "Could you ask Toomey to make a coffin?"

"We'll need three."

"Three?!" Milly exclaimed.

"...On our way back to North Fork, we found Drake and Oliver dead. They're out on the horses."

"Let's get them off the street," Doc replied as he mournfully shook his head.

Milly left the office using the back door, trying to stop the tears that were burning in her eyes.

Milly sat there a long time as the images of what she had seen plagued her mind. After finally composing herself, Milly walked back to the store and closed up for the day before walking home.

Questions swirled in Milly's head as she thought about what had happened. Where was Mark? Was he alive? If these outlaws could kill three men in cold blood… what would they do to Mark?

Milly sat for what felt like hours. She was numb to the world and wanted to shut everything out, yet a knock at the door still came through.

Milly slowly rose to answer the door and found Doc standing on her porch.

"Doc, is something wrong?"

"I'm not here in an official capacity. May I come in?"

"Of course," Milly opened the door and let the man inside before offering him a seat. "Can I get you anything?"

"I didn't come here to be a bother, Miss Scott. I wanted to make sure you were alright. You seemed quite shaken as you left the office."

Milly nodded as she bit her lip, letting herself fall into a chair.

"...What kind of men… why… why would they do this? Wes is hardly old enough to be wearing a badge; he had his whole life ahead of him… and now it's gone. And if they're willing to do that to three men…" Milly shuttered, unable to say the rest out loud.

"Mark is still a boy, we can hope they see that."

"He's not that much of a boy, Doc. And he's getting just old enough… especially after the last few months... I'm… I'm afraid…"

"You're afraid he'll try something?"

Milly slowly nodded as a tear slid down her cheek.

"Would you expect less of a boy his age?"

"No, but… but Doc, what if…"

"They kill him?"

Again, Milly slowly nodded, not trusting her voice.

"We can't jump to that conclusion, Milly. And when Lucas gets here we don't need to be putting that notion in the man's head."

"What I wouldn't give to get word to Lucas…"

"They're working on the lines, Milly. We'll get word to him."

There was a long silence before Milly spoke.

"...The posse, what's going on?"

"They're trying to round up a few more men, but…" the doctor stopped himself, not wanting to tell Milly the rest.

"What Doc? They don't think Mark's worth it?!"

"That's not the case, Milly, and you know that. We're back where we started… the outlaws are days ahead of us now… we just don't know if they'll be able to find anything."

"They have to find something! If I have to, I'll go out there myself!"

"Milly, think rationally. You can't go out there."

"What, because I'm a woman?"

"Yes, Milly! You can lift a sack of flour and ride better than me, but you won't stand a chance against three bank robbers. When was the last time you fired a gun?"

Milly averted her eyes from the doctor as another tear slipped down her cheek.

"I know it's hard to wait, Milly. I wish I could be out there looking, too. But neither one of us can do any good getting lost in the desert. We just gotta have faith."

"...How much longer until that telegraph line is fixed?"

"Should be up by tomorrow morning last I heard."

"How are we gonna break the news to Lucas?"

"Tell him the truth. The bank was robbed and his son was taken."

 **14MC14**

"I'm getting thirsty," Richards declared as he stood to stoke the fire.

"Well there's plenty of water in the canteens," Fuller replied in confusion.

"Not that kind of thirsty, you idiot," Tips grumbled.

"Fuller, stay here and watch the brat. Tips and I'll be back in a while."

"Where are you going?"

For an instant, Mark considered throwing an insult at Richards about getting drunk; but he knew to keep quiet for now. His Pa had spent years telling him there was a time to speak and a time to keep quiet. He knew it was a time to keep his mouth shut.

"We're going to get supplies," Richards answered in frustration. "Some days I wonder why I ever let you come along with me…"

"Because you needed a third person who was stupid enough to listen to everything you say," Tips remarked.

"I'm warning you…" Richards declared as he pointed a finger at the man.

"What are you going to do? You need me and you know it."

"Let's go."

Mark watched as the two outlaws left camp before shifting his eyes towards Fuller who had just tripped over a log. Mark rolled his eyes at the man, but suddenly got an idea. If it worked for his Pa, it might just work for him.

"They don't treat you very well, do they?" Mark asked.

"Who?"

"Tips and Richards. They don't seem to appreciate you."

"Well Richards… he's gotten me out of a lot of trouble. But… but a little recognition wouldn't hurt."

"A little? You practically run this whole operation. You should be in charge, not Richards. You're the one who does everything, except have the fun."

"... I'd like to see them survive just one week without me."

"Have you thought about letting them?"

"Letting them what?"

"Go a week without you?"

"What good would that do?"

"Show them how much they need you. It would teach them to appreciate what you do for them."

"...I don't know. Richards… he's pretty stubborn when it comes to leaving camp."

"Are you gonna let him shove you around like this the rest of your life?"

"...No, I guess. But… but it'll change, you'll see."

"The only way Roberts and Fuller will see you for who you are is if you show it to them. You could sneak from camp for a few days, let all the chaos unravel, and come back in just in time to fix everything. I wouldn't say a word."

"I… I can't. Richards… he's done too much for me. I owe him a debt."

"And how long are you going to pay that debt?"

"As long as I need to."

"Don't fool yourself; you've probably way overpaid your debt. At this point, just from seeing everything around here, I'd say Richards is the one who owes you."

"...I don't know. The man saved my life, I can't… I can't just pull something like that. He'll get angry."

"But is him not getting angry worth all the anger pent up inside of you? I can see it. The hatred, the bitterness, the resentment. Why not let all that go, and show the man what you really think?"

"When someone saves your life… it's not a debt you can ever repay."

Mark knew the words the man spoke held truth, but he still had hopes of making a friend of Fuller.

"...Maybe so, but is it a life worth living if you're miserable?"

"I… I don't know."

"How'd you and Richards meet?"

"Our parents arranged it."

"What?"

Fuller laughed at his attempt at a joke before going on.

"We're cousins. My Mother is his Pa's half-sister."

"That's probably why he takes you for granted so much."

Fuller shrugged before replying.

"I don't know. We have our differences, but like I said, he saved my life. I wouldn't have anywhere to go if I left the gang; Richards has always been there."

"You could always turn your life around."

"And spend ten years in prison? No thanks."

"It's better if you turn yourself in now before Richards gets you into big trouble and you end up at the end of a rope or with a bullet inside of you."

"You just don't get it, kid, do you? Once a criminal, always a criminal. People never look at you the same."

"I'm not saying it's easy or that it'll happen overnight. It'll take work. But if you work hard enough and long enough, and surround yourself with the right people, there's always a chance for change."

Fuller shook his head in response.

"I'm just saying-"

"Look, kid, I don't want to talk about it. I can find that gag again if you want."

"I understand," Mark answered, trying to keep Fuller relaxed.

Several hours passed before horses could be heard in the distance. Mark looked up to see Richards and Tips riding up to the camp; a young woman riding in front of Tips.

Mark met her eyes and could see fear deep inside of them. Mark saw that her hands were bound to the saddle horn as Tips began to dismount.

"Who's that?" Fuller asked the men.

"Tips found a friend in town," Richards laughed.

After untying the woman's restraints, Tips forcefully pulled her from the saddle and pulled her to where Mark was tied up before tying her hands behind her back. The woman resisted as Tips attempted to give her a kiss on the cheek before shoving her to the ground.

Mark started for the man but didn't make it far since he was still tied to the saddle. Tips laughed as he gave Mark a kick and walked away.

"Are you alright?" Mark whispered to the young woman; he guessed her to be about sixteen.

She slowly nodded, trying to keep herself from crying.

Mark wanted to ask more questions, but he could see that she was too shook up at the moment.

A half hour had passed before Richards untied Mark to collect more firewood and water from the river.

"And remember," Richards said as he backhanded Mark. "No funny business."

Mark nodded and began his tasks. Fuller followed Mark around and watched him work until they were back at camp. Fuller started to turn, but moved in the wrong direction, causing Mark to trip and drop his armload of logs.

"You clumsy oaf!"

Mark closed his eyes as he saw Fuller's hand coming closer to his face. He heard a slap… but he never felt anything.

He opened his eyes to see Fuller slipping a pocket knife into Mark's jeans.

"Watch where you're going!"

Mark watched as Fuller walked away, Richards commenting on the man's temper. As the outlaws talked, Mark picked up the wood and fixed the fire.

Later that night, Mark was again tied to the saddle and watched as the outlaws drank on the other side of camp. He turned to the young woman and began to whisper.

"My front right pocket, there's a knife."

She looked over and stared at him for a few moments before backing up and trying to get the knife from Mark's pocket. After a little bit of work, the knife was free.

"Come around to the saddle horn, my hands are free enough I should be able to get you loose."

She nodded and handed Mark the knife before he started to work on her ropes.

"Can you climb a tree?"

"What?"

"Can you climb a tree?"

"What kind of question-"

"Their first instinct is going to be that you ran for town. If you climb a tree that has enough leaves, they won't be able to see you. Wait for morning until they leave, and then run for help."

"What about you?"

Mark had been thinking about that for a long time. He could try to escape with her, but he knew she would have a better chance of running away by herself. If it was just the girl, Richards wouldn't bother chasing after her and would probably just break camp. If Mark left too… they wouldn't rest until they found both of them.

"It's too risky."

"Too risky? You can't stay here with them!"

"Shh!" Mark ordered. He waited a few moments before going on, "...Unless we went in opposite directions. I'll divert them, lead them the wrong way. Richards is only concerned about me."

"But what if they catch you?"

"...How far away is your town?"

"About an hour if you have to walk it."

"You have a sheriff?"

"Not a sober one," the young woman scoffed.

"If I'm not there by tomorrow afternoon, I need you to send a telegram for me."

 **15MC15**

"Calm down, Lucas."

"Calm down, Micah? Calm down?! I'm stuck in a town under martial law, infected by a disease apparently no one's seen before, and there's no doctor to clear this up so I can get out of here and get home before Hewitt does who knows what to my son! I'm about as calm as I can be!"

"They've sent for a doctor and-"

"And it'll be two days before he gets here!"

"Lucas, I've seen you like this. You need to relax before you do something stupid and they have reason to keep you here even longer."

Lucas shook his head as he stood and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To send a wire home. I pray nothing's happened."

Lucas let the door slam shut behind him before making his way down to the lobby. The rancher left the hotel and found his way to the telegraph office.

"Can I help you?"

"I need to send a telegram to North Fork."

"Sorry, can't help you."

"What do you mean?"

"We've been trying to get through for days, the lines are down. We were hoping to get their doctor up here, but haven't been able to get through."

"When was the last time you were able to get through?"

"Five or six days ago, why?"

Lucas ignored the man's question and ran for the Colonel's office. He pushed his way past the guards and into the room.

"Mr. McCain…"

"Colonel, the people back home don't even know there's something wrong!"

"You told me yesterday you sent telegrams."

"We didn't stick around long enough to get answers and the telegraph operator here just told me that North Fork's lines have been down for six days! My son's life is in danger!"

"Mr. McCain, until we figure this out I can't have you leave! You could spread this disease to your entire town!"

"Colonel…"

"Mr. McCain, once this epidemic is cured I will send men back to North Fork to aid you, but until I say so, no one leaves!"

Frustrated, Lucas started to leave before turning around and pointing a finger at the Colonel.

"If something happens to my son, it's on your head!"

Lucas stormed out of the office and back to the hotel. Micah was sitting in the lobby and Lucas dropped into a chair across from him.

"The Colonel still won't budge."

"I could've told you that, Lucas-boy."

Lucas let out a long sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"Why didn't I let him come with me, Micah? Why?"

"Because school started for the year and Smithflat is no place for a boy like Mark to be roaming around on his own."

"He's not much of a boy anymore…"

"No, I suppose not. He's a young man, and you'll get to see him mature into manhood, I'm sure."

"I hope your right, Micah."

"Lucas-boy, you're giving Hewitt power over you he doesn't deserve. You're letting one fear completely run your life and drive you insane. The people will recognize Dan IF the man shows up."

Again Lucas stood and put his hat on his head.

"Where are you headed off to now?"

"I need to take a walk."

Lucas left the hotel again, this time much calmer. He walked the empty streets, wondering what they had looked like before the epidemic. The town reminded him of what had happened to Enid practically overnight. A once bubbling, lively town whittled down to a sad, lonely existence. Instead of children's laughter, he heard mothers' sobs. Instead of the milkman's wagon, he saw the undertaker leaving to collect another body.

"Lucas McCain, I thought my luck had run out."

Lucas turned and cocked his rifle to find himself staring straight at Dan Hewitt.

"I was just coming to find you when I got stuck in this pathetic town, but it seems like things are starting to look up. I sure hope you brought the boy with you, then I'll only have one person to kill in North Fork."

"Hewitt, you so much as touch one hair on anyone's head and you're a dead man!"

"Tell you what, I'll break you a deal. I've always wanted a son. You tell me where the boy is and I'll spare his life. Train him up real good for ya, Lucas. I'll even give him your rifle to use when we rob our first stage."

"Hewitt, there are few men I've ever wanted to kill in cold blood, and you're making your way to the top of the list!"

"He was a good boy, Lucas. It's just too bad he had to come along when he did. None of this would've had to happen, but then you went and pressured the boy to testify."

"forget all of it, Hewitt, you're just gonna end up where you were a month ago. This town is crawling with the army!"

"If I can get out once I can get out again. And we're just gonna play this game over and over and over again until I see you, your son, and that Marshal friend of yours dead!"

Lucas saw Hewitt going for his gun and fired his rifle from his hip, but before he could see what happened, everything went black.

Unconscious of how much time had elapsed since he had last been awake, Lucas began to come around.

"There you go, Lucas-boy."

As Lucas opened his eyes, he looked around to see himself lying in his hotel room, Micah helping him sit up. Lucas put a hand to his head as he began to feel the pounding headache there.

Suddenly Lucas remembered what happened.

"Micah, Hewitt-"

"It's alright, Lucas-boy, he's dead."

Lucas let out a sigh of relief as he closed his eyes.

"Why'd I black out?"

"You didn't black out, one of the soldiers knocked you out. He had already started making his way towards the two of you when Hewitt went for his gun. From his point of view, he could only see you going for your rifle and thought you were trying to kill Hewitt in cold blood. Two other soldiers saw it and confirmed that Hewitt drew first. The man profusely apologized, and is waiting downstairs for you to come around so he can explain."

"Micah, I don't want to know who knocked me out. Just tell him to leave us be."

"I have some good news."

"Good news?" Lucas asked as he eyed Micah.

"The doctor arrived and has diagnosed this as cholera. We-"

"The doctor? He's not due for two days!"

"It's been two days, Lucas-boy. The soldier knocked you out and Hewitt's bullet grazed the side of your head. Between that and hardly getting any sleep the last few days… well, you slept hard and long."

"How long until we can leave?"

"As soon as you're up for it. They found out the problem was the meat they had at a hog roast a week or so back. You and I aren't getting or spreading the sickness."

Lucas gave a nod as he started to get out of bed.

"Lucas, you should rest a day or two."

"Home, Micah."

The marshal looked into his friend's eyes and could see the desperation. Lucas didn't just want to get home; he needed to see his boy.

"Home it is then."

 **16MC16**

Mark hadn't gone far when he finally collapsed against a rock. The pain in his ribs was too much; he couldn't breathe without pain shooting through his chest.

As painful as it was, Mark forced himself to take in deep breaths and slowly let them out.

"Please, God," Mark silently prayed, "Help her get home. Please… bring someone to help me."

Mark knew he couldn't go on. He was tired and weak from days of travel and having little to eat. One of his eyes was swollen half shut, he felt like he had broken his ribs, and his wrists were chafed from being tied up.

Mark rested his head back against the rock as he heard voices coming closer… voices that were all too familiar.

"When I get my hands on that little brat…"

"Save it, Tips," Richards ordered. "We'll all get our turn."

Mark closed his eyes tighter, trying to ignore the memories from the last time Richards had beat him.

"Well, look at who we have here."

Mark cringed as he felt himself being pulled to his feet.

"You didn't get very far," Richards sneered.

"Farther than you would've gotten."

Richards picked Mark up and threw him across the saddle before the men rode back to camp.

Mark again felt himself being pulled from the saddle and thrown to the ground. His vision was blurry as he opened his eyes again and saw a figure approach him.

As the outlaws began to have their fun, Mark wanted to cry out in pain; but he was determined not to give them that satisfaction. Mark couldn't help but groan and grunt, but he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from crying out.

By the time the outlaws were finished, Mark could taste the blood coming from both sides of his cheeks. Richards tied Mark's hands behind his back but didn't worry about the saddle; he knew the boy would be in too much pain to go anywhere for a few days.

Mark lied on the hard ground in too much pain to fall asleep. He remembered watching Bantry beat on his Pa; he remembered how much pain his Pa had been in the days that followed. But he never knew how much it had hurt. Mark felt guilty. If he hadn't been there, his Pa would've tried something. Mark knew his Pa had taken the beating in order to protect him. But why didn't he try to do anything? How could he have just stood there? Why was he always so… helpless? As Mark thought about it, he knew there really wasn't anything he could've done, but he was tired of being in the way. He was tired of being a pawn. But as true as all that was; as strong as Mark wanted to be, he knew when he was beat. He had tried to get away, twice… and all he got as a result were the beatings of his life. Mark wished his Pa was there. Mark kept hoping to hear Razor ride up any moment. ...But the sound of the horse's hooves never came.

Hours later Mark was able to fall asleep. He slept hard until waking to a kick in the ribs. He looked up to see Richards glaring down at him.

"Get up unless you want me to throw you across the saddle again."

Mark painfully rose and stumbled to a horse. He could hardly see straight as Richards pushed him into the saddle and tied his hands to the saddle horn. The man took the reins and mounted his own horse.

As they rode, Mark leaned forward and rested his head on the horse's neck, afraid he would throw up if he sat upright.

The men had only been riding for a little over an hour when they heard a rider behind them.

"You think he's friendly?" Fuller asked.

"Not at that speed!" Richards kicked his horse into a gallop, causing Mark's horse to do the same.

Mark held on for dear life, afraid he'd fall from the horse while his hands were still tied to the saddle.

It wasn't long before the men heard gunshots behind them. Tips was the first to fall, closely followed by Fuller.

Mark heard a bullet whiz past his head and closed his eyes even tighter.

Another two gunshots sounded before Mark heard Richards yell in pain and drop from his horse.

The mare Mark was still on kept galloping as Mark continued to hold on tight. In time, Mark heard another horse come up beside him.

"Whoa!" A voice called.

Mark briefly looked up to see a hand grabbing his mare's bridal and bringing the horse to a trot, then a stop.

Mark looked up, halfway expecting to see his Pa there.

"You alright, boy?" A man in his late twenties asked.

Mark slightly nodded as he laid back down against the horse.

"I don't think so. I'll take you back to my camp."

Mark just nodded, in too much pain and shock to care.

After riding for a while the horses came to a stop.

The man cut the ropes around Mark's wrists and helped him down from the horse and then took him to sit down underneath a tree. The man offered Mark a canteen and he readily accepted it. He quickly drank the water, almost choking.

"Easy now," the man said as he pulled the canteen back. "No need to drown yourself."

The man waited for Mark to get his fill before he went on.

"I take it you're Mark McCain?"

Mark slowly nodded before asking, "Who are you?"

"A friend. I was in town when the posse left. Seeing as how your Pa wasn't around, I took it on myself to make sure you were safe."

"You know my Pa?"

"Sure do, we served in the war together."

"Thank you, sir."

"Where was your Pa?"

"Out of town on business. He-" Mark suddenly stopped and stared at the man.

"That's strange, he knew I was coming. Where was his business?"

Mark just continued to stare at the man.

"Mark?"

"You're too young to have served with my Pa."

The man let out a frustrated sigh before turning to his horse and grabbing his laso.

"You'll have to do."

Mark scrambled to get away, but he couldn't put up much of a fight against the man.

Before Mark knew what was happening they were riding again, farther away from North Fork.

It was hours before they stopped again, this time at a large house in the middle of nowhere. The man pulled Mark from the saddle and pushed him into the house.

Mark was forced into a small back room where he was tied to a bedpost. He sat there for a long time, too many questions circling in his muddled brain. Finally the door opened and a woman came into the room, her dress sashaying behind her. She bent down next to Mark as a wicked grin crossed her face.

"Alright, Mark. You tell me where your father is, and I won't kill him. Resist and… you won't be the only one dying."

Mark stared at the woman with hatred and bitterness as memories raced through his mind. He thought about what the woman said, but only for an instant.

"If you don't know where he is, then you can't kill him."

The woman slapped Mark across the face before standing up straight.

"I warned you," the woman declared as she pointed a finger at him. "Tell me where he is, or you will regret it for the rest of your life!"

"...That won't be very long if you kill me."

Again the woman slapped Mark, harder this time.

"Well, I thought Lucas would've raised you to be more respectful. We'll see how a day without food or water changes that! Any time you feel inclined to tell me anything, holler. "

The woman turned and started towards the door until Mark's voice stopped her.

"There is one thing."

"Yes?" She hopefully replied.

Mark despised this woman more than any other and couldn't help but want to rile her.

"That green looks awful on you."

Flabbergasted, the woman walked back towards Mark and slapped him again before slamming the door shut behind her.

"And you better pray my Pa doesn't find you…"

 **17MC17**

Milly temporarily closed the store and walked over to the clinic. She quietly entered the office to see Doc Burrage working at his desk, piles of papers scattered everywhere.

"Milly, good to see you. Can I help you with anything?" The doctor asked as he stood.

"Thank you, but no. I'm just here to check up on Ted. How's he doing?"

"On the mend and stubborn as always."

"Stubborn?"

"He insists on going back out with the posse, but I can't let him. He could open his wound again and he's just not strong enough."

"Did you tell him the posse already left?"

"I tired, but he still insists. I put something in his last glass of water to make him sleep; hence the quiet."

Milly let out a chuckle as she shook her head.

"Sounds as bad as Lucas."

"Oh no, no one could be that bad." The doctor paused before going on, "Have you been able to get through to him?"

"There's been no reply, but I think he should be headed back home now, anyway… Doc, would you…"

"I'll tell him when he gets in. Any word from Micah?"

Milly shook her head as she let out another sigh.

"Hopefully he'll be back today or tomorrow."

Doc and Milly turned as they heard the door open behind them and saw Amos running into the office with a handful of telegrams.

"What's wrong?"

"I just got some telegrams, apparently some people have been trying to get ahold of us. Doc, you remember Dan Hewitt?"

"Of course I remember," the doctor grumbled in response.

"Well he's escaped prison and Micah and Lucas sent word that he might be headed this way, for Mark."

"For Mark?" Milly asked. "Who would come after Mark?"

"Maybe it is a good thing Mark was taken hostage…"

"Doc!" Milly exclaimed in unbelief.

"Milly, about a year before you moved here the Hadley gang came to town and caused all sorts of trouble. A man by the name of Dan Hewitt was the only survivor and Mark, Lucas, and Micah all testified at the trial. The man was supposed to hang…"

"Well apparently he didn't," Amos mused.

"Keep an eye out and spread the word," The doctor told Amos as he started to turn back to his paperwork."

"There's one more thing," Amos said as he revealed another telegram. "Someone from Deming sent a wire. Mark was seen alive with the bank robbers the other day. They were headed northeast from town."

Milly let out a slight sigh of relief as Doc relaxed some in his chair and spoke.

"At least that's some good news we can tell Lucas."

"What's good news for me?"

All three turned to see Micah and Lucas entering the office. Amos looked to Milly who looked helplessly to Doc.

"I've got to get back…" Amos slipped out of the office and closed the door behind him.

Milly turned towards Lucas and suddenly saw the wound.

"Lucas, were you shot?!"

"Don't worry, I'm fine."

Milly looked to Micah, unsure if she could trust Lucas's statement.

"He needs some rest, but he's right. We ran into Dan Hewitt on the way back and… he won't be bothering anyone."

"Mark been minding you, Milly?"

"He… was…"

"Was?" Lucas asked as his brow furrowed.

"Lucas, sit down," Doc ordered as he stood. He came around the desk and sat on its edge as he looked between the rancher and lawman. "We've been trying to get ahold of the two of you for days. The bank was robbed over a week ago. John Hamilton was closing up and Mark was running an errand for Milly."

Lucas's mind began to spin as he listened to the doctor explain.

"Lucas, I don't know how else to tell you this. They took Mark."

To Milly's surprise, Lucas didn't seem to react. The rancher didn't start yelling or pacing; he just stared at the doctor helplessly, almost… hopelessly.

"Where… where'd they go?" Lucas finally asked.

"Northeast. We sent a posse out and they were ambushed. A few men struck out again two days ago, but we just got word Mark was seen alive with the outlaws, heading northeast from Deming."

Lucas didn't say anything. He stood, clenched his rifle and walked back out of the office towards Razor.

"Anything else I should know?" Micah asked, turning his gaze from the door to the doctor.

"Micah… they killed three men from the posse and Ted was wounded. These outlaws aren't afraid of killing, you two best be careful."

Micah nodded and started for the door.

"Micah?"

The marshal turned around to face Milly who held tears in her eyes.

"Tell Lucas I'm sorry."

Micah walked up to Milly and gave her a hug, letting her cry a few tears.

"This isn't your fault and Lucas knows that. We'll be back with Mark."

Micah left the office and got the telegram from Deming before following after Lucas. It wasn't long before he caught up with his friend, who was still just staring.

"Talk to me, Lucas-boy."

Lucas took in a deep breath and let it out, fighting the urge to take out his anger on Micah.

"I've spent the last week worried sick about my son. I killed the man threatening his life only to come home and find out… to find that my son is with outlaws! Micah, I pray I do nothing stupid. Because if they hurt my son…"

"They would know better than to hurt their hostage, Lucas. I'm sure they'll eventually turn him loose."

"If they were going to turn him loose, why not turn him loose to the posse and get away?"

"Don't lose faith, Lucas. Mark's smart, he'll find a way."

"Mark's too trusting. He believes everyone has a good side and he'll wait for them to turn him loose."

"I don't think so, Lucas-boy."

"I know my boy, Micah!"

"Your boy, yes. But a lot has happened this last year. And you and I both admitted he's becoming a man. Don't give up hope. We'll find Mark and bring him home."

 **18MC18**

"I promised you money for the boy and Lucas. All I see is the boy, Bret!"

"I couldn't help it! Like I told you, the man wasn't in town! I tried getting information from people, but it was no use!"

"You're not getting paid until I see McCain on my front porch!"

"From everything I've heard, I'm sure he'll show up here on his own."

"That's not good enough for me. I want him in pain and agony when he comes crawling to beg the life of his son! I want Lucas McCain to have nothing to do but worry all the way here!"

"Calm down-"

The woman slapped Bret across the face as she coldly stared at him.

"If the boy doesn't break by tomorrow morning, I don't care what it takes! You ride out there and find McCain and bring him to me!"

Bret watched as she walked away before turning to look at the door. He deeply sighed before slowly standing and walking into the next room.

He found himself staring at the kid, only now getting a real look at the injuries he had. He couldn't help but feel a burden of guilt, but reminded himself he wasn't the one who had beat the kid up.

Bret closed the door and walked towards Mark before putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him awake.

Mark jumped as he woke and turned to look at the man next to him.

"What do you want?"

"Look, kid, I'm sorry you got caught up in all this. But you're making this harder on yourself than it has to be. I'm sure your Pa's going to come looking for you and find his way up here eventually, why not make life easier on him and you by just telling us where he went? You're not going to do anybody harm."

"The trail's gone," Mark answered. He knew there wasn't hope of anyone finding them now and the best chance he had at protecting his Pa was stalling his captors as long as he could.

"She's ruthless and won't give up. Your Pa's gotta go back home anyway, sooner or later she'll send me back to North Fork to bring him here. You're just prolonging the inevitable."

"Nothing's inevitable, people just use that as an excuse to give up. And I'm not going to give up!"

Bret looked into the kid's eyes and saw a fiery determination deep inside of them.

"...Look, kid, I got myself into quite a scrape… but I should've never given in to helping with something like this. I… I gotta wife and doctor bills to pay…"

"And you should've tried looking for an honest job."

"...I know that now. I can't take back what I've done, but I can move on from here. I… I want to help you if I can."

"How?"

"Find your Pa, tell him the truth and warn him of what's waiting for him."

"Why do you want to help me all of a sudden?"

"...Because I can't help but see my boy in you."

"Your boy? You have a son?"

"... He's seven. Don't take much after me; he's the spitting image of his mother. But you and him… you've got the same eyes. I… I know how much I love him and I couldn't be a part of taking that away from someone else."

"...You have any more children?"

"Eli is five and Mary just turned two. I missed her birthday because I was out on business. I was looking for a job and this came up and… and I was stupid. If my wife ever found out…"

"I'm sure she would forgive you," Mark stated.

"What about you? Would you be able to… forgive me?"

"My Pa's always taught me the only person that you hurt when you hold a grudge is yourself."

"I want to make this right, I want to help you, but you've gotta tell me where your Pa went so I can warn him."

"...I can't, not yet."

"Not yet?" The man asked in confusion.

"Not until tomorrow afternoon."

"But why?"

"The business my Pa is on is… confidential. I have to wait until certain things have taken place. Then I can tell you and you can meet him on his way back home."

"Just tell me his route and I'll head that way now."

"I can't, I'm not even supposed to know some of the things I do. I can't say anything until tomorrow afternoon."

"But-"

"I won't say anything until then," Mark insisted.

"Alright."

"Bret, could you do me a favor and loosen these restraints?"

"... I'm sorry, but I have to play my cards carefully. If she finds out… this whole thing goes under."

"I understand."

The man started for the door until Mark's voice stopped him.

"Bret, thank you. And when you get back to your family, just remember that nothing's more important than loving them."

Bret nodded and left the room.

"Any luck?" The woman asked as the door closed behind Bret.

The man put the index finger to his lips and motioned for her to follow him into the parlor.

"What's going on?"

"The kid's stupid, that's what. He thinks I'm gonna help him."

"So he told you where McCain is?"

"Not yet, McCain must be working with the government or something because the kid won't say anything until tomorrow afternoon. But it'll be faster anyhow. I'll meet McCain en route instead of riding all the way to wherever he is."

"Maybe you're not so hopeless after all."

"I promised you McCain and the boy, and you'll get McCain and the boy."

"I can't believe he trusts you after the beating you gave him."

"That wasn't my handiwork, I'm not so sloppy. There was a hitch in the plan. He got himself kidnapped by bank robbers who apparently didn't take much of a liking to him."

"I can't wait until McCain sees the boy's state…"

"What do you have against McCain, anyway?"

"He left me alone," The woman replied with anger in her eyes and bitterness in her voice. "All alone…"

 **19MC19**

Micah looked over to see Lucas stirring in his sleep, mumbling his son's name.

The marshal let out a sigh of concern and prayed the boy was alive; he didn't know what would happen to Lucas if they found Mark dead. He remembered the weeks that followed Mark and Lucas being attacked in the desert by Mexican bandits. On more than one occasion Lucas had come by the office to talk with Micah. The rancher had confided that those were some of the hardest days he ever had to live through. He had hope that Mark was alive… but deep inside he knew there was a very real possibility the bandits had killed his son. Micah knew how rattled Mark and Lucas had both been after that ordeal, and now his friend was forced to again wonder if his son was dead.

Looking to the horizon, Micah could see that it wouldn't be long before the sun was up and moved towards the fire to start the coffee. Half an hour had passed before he heard Lucas coming up behind him.

"I should have taken Mark with me."

"Lucas, we've been over this…"

"We wouldn't be out here if I had!"

"And you still would've stopped in Socorro, and there's a good chance Hewitt could've done something to Mark there. You know how the boy likes to wander."

"But I-"

"Lucas, "but" is just about as troublesome as the word "if". We can't change what happened and there's no use sitting here feeling sorry about it! Get it together so we can find your son!"

Micah handed Lucas a cup of coffee before heading towards the horses. At sunrise, the men broke camp and continued their ride.

It was about noon when Micah and Lucas saw riders approaching in the distance. They both hid behind boulders on either side of the trail as they waited for the horses to come closer.

"Lucas, it's the posse!" Micah finally hollered.

Micah and Lucas came out and remounted their horses before riding to meet the group.

"Micah? Lucas? How'd you-"

"We'll explain later, Jones. Find anything?"

The man nervously looked to Lucas before replying.

"I'm sorry, but no. We lost their trail. Lucas-"

"It's alright, thank you for trying," Lucas lifelessly replied. "...I don't blame you for turning back. We have a tip about Deming and are headed that way, but you boys look like you need some rest."

"Lucas, we can-"

"It's better this way, Micah and I have a better chance on surprising them alone."

"Where's Wes?" Micah asked.

"Didn't they tell you?" Sneed inquired.

"Tell us what?" Lucas asked.

"Wes was killed. The first posse was ambushed."

"We knew about the ambush," Micah replied, "But I didn't… didn't know Wes was one of them."

There were a few moments of silence before Lucas spoke up.

"Micah, we need to go."

"Best of luck," Jones offered.

Micah and Lucas continued on as the posse continued back to North Fork. Micah could see the discouragement in Lucas's posture and wished for a way to give Lucas hope.

Not nearly fast enough for Lucas, the horses continued through the New Mexico desert. Every time Micah called for a stop Lucas couldn't help but see his son being taken farther and farther away from him.

It was late when the rancher and marshal rode into Deming. Most establishments had closed for the evening and the saloon was coming to life.

Micah and Lucas asked around and found their way to the marshal or sheriff's office. As they walked inside they saw a man passed out on the desk, an empty bottle knocked over on the floor.

"What now?" Lucas asked as he turned to Micah.

Micah pulled the telegram out of his pocket again and sighed.

"I guess we ask around for Pat Johnson."

"That would be me," a quiet voice called from the doorway. "I take it you're Mr. McCain?" A girl asked Lucas.

"How…?"

"I'm Patricia Johnson and I sent you the telegram. Mr. McCain, I recognize you from your son's description."

"My son? You saw my son?" Lucas urgently asked. "Where?"

"As I said in the telegram, the outlaws took him northeast of here."

"But you talked to him?" Micah asked.

The young woman nodded before taking a seat followed by Lucas and Micah.

"I best start from the beginning. I was minding my own business when a short, yet big man suddenly stopped me. I could tell right away his intentions weren't good and tried getting away, but I could exactly do much. He threw me up in the saddle and he took me to a camp. He had a partner riding with him and another watching your son at the camp. Mr. McCain, Mark and I were tied up near each other and tried to figure a way to escape, but he insisted we go separate ways. He had told me to hide in a tree until the outlaws left looking for him. I don't think your son had made it very far because they brought him back to camp shortly after we ran. I waited all night and they took off the next morning. Mr. McCain, I wanted to get Mark out of there but-"

"Your best chance at getting help was getting to town," Lucas assured.

"So there were three of them?" Micah asked.

The girl nodded before going on, "They all have guns. Mr. McCain, Mark had told me about you and getting a telegram to North Fork. He made me promise to make sure you knew he was alive, and he was when I saw him…"

"What do you mean?" Lucas worriedly asked.

"Mr. McCain, they hadn't treated your son right. When I arrived he was already bruised and in a bad condition. After we tried running away… they… they… they beat him, bad."

Lucas couldn't say anything; he didn't trust his voice.

"Thank you, Miss Johnson," Micah offered.

She slowly nodded as she and the men stood.

"I hope you find him. Mr. McCain, your son saved my life and I am indebted to him."

Lucas nodded as she turned to leave, proud of, but still desperately worried about his son.

Early the next morning Lucas and Micah left town and hit the trail again. Little was said; there was nothing to be said.

Several hours into the morning, Lucas and Micah saw still bodies in the distance. Lucas kicked Razor into a gallop and hurried towards the scene. As he came closer, he was relieved to not recognize his son.

"Short but big," Micah began as he looked at one of the dead men. "Lucas I think we found our bank robbers."

"Then where's Mark?"

The men briefly looked at the tracks around the sight before Micah answered, pointing east.

"With whoever killed the bank robbers."

 **20MC20**

Mark again woke to someone gently shaking him by the shoulder. He didn't jump this time, but slowly turned his head to look at Bret. Mark knew he was bad off; it was the end of summer and he was freezing. He could barely hold his eyes open and the light coming in from the window gave him a world of hurt. He could feel the bruises that lined his body and with every breath there came a stabbing pain in his ribs.

"Mark, can you hear me?" Bret asked, worried when he saw how disoriented the boy seemed to be. "Mark?"

As the question forced its way through Mark's fogged brain, he slowly nodded.

"Your Pa, where'd he go?"

"L-Las Cruces," Mark whispered, his voice dry and coarse.

Mark faintly smiled as Bret excitedly ran from the room. He rested his head against the bedpost as his thoughts fell on his Pa. Before, Mark wouldn't let himself think too much about Lucas; it was too painful. But Mark knew he wasn't going to last much longer and thoughts of his Pa brought comfort.

He remembered their late night talks, the troubles his Pa had helped him through. He remembered the Sundays they spent at the ranch when there wasn't a circuit preacher in town, everything his Pa taught him from the Bible.

Mark's mind shifted to less pleasant memories; memories that held a lot of fear and sadness. He remembered the weeks following their ordeal with Neff Packer. At first, Mark remembered his Pa trying to put on a good face, but deep down Mark could see the worry Lucas was dealing with. He remembered waking up several nights to hear his Pa calling out in his sleep, reliving distorted memories of what had happened. Finally one night they sat down and talked about it. Lucas admitted just how scared he had been of losing his son. Mark remembered his Pa saying he wouldn't know what to do if anything ever happened to him. Mark prayed that his Pa would have the strength to move on.

Mark sat alone for a while before the door again opened and he saw Nora Sanford walking through the door several items in her hand and an evil grin on her face.

"You know, I was just thinking about the best way to do this. There are so many ways to kill someone, it's just hard to decide."

Mark glared at the woman for a long time before uttering one simple word.

"Why?"

"Why?" She laughingly asked.

"Why are you doing this? Killing me won't solve your problems."

"You are my problem, Mark McCain. If it weren't for you and that wretched mother of yours-" Nora gave a contented grin as fire flashed in Mark's eyes. "I wouldn't be all alone. Lucas and I should be together, we should be settled as a happy family; but no, he was too much of a coward and married that sorry excuse for a woman."

"Don't you dare-" Mark's voice gave out just as Nora gave him a resounding slap across the face.

"You really should be my son, you know that?" Nora paused and thought for a moment before going on. "But you're not, you're his son, and this is the way things have to be."

Nora picked up a revolver and held the barrel to Mark's temple. He closed his eyes as she pulled back the hammer.

"I could shoot you… but then again, that'd be much too quick. Your father deserves only the slowest agony."

Mark opened his eyes and coldly stared at the woman as he realized he was dealing with someone who had gone completely insane in prison.

Nora revealed a knife and pushed it's tip to Mark's jugular vein.

"This would be much too slow and drawn out, however." Nora paused before going on. "Strangulation is always a good option, it's how I escaped from prison, you know."

Mark watched as she picked up a cord and dangled it in front of Mark's face. He could feel her wrapping it around his neck and pulling tighter and tighter until he wasn't just focused on the sensation, but his lack of air. She finally released the cord and let it drop.

"He might not be able to see that from a distance, though. A noose might work."

Unable to talk, Mark continued to stare at her with cold, angry eyes. The woman gave a wicked laugh as she walked to a chair and sat down.

"You and your father are really quite pathetic. I could've made such a man out of Lucas. He could've had so much money. He could've had everything he wanted, including me. I tried to convince him, but it was no use. Your father got me to the point of begging him, did you know that? I wanted so badly to marry. But now he's going to be the one doing the begging and right after I kill you, I'll have Bret kill him."

It was one thing for Mark to sit and listen to this woman talk about killing him. He had accepted the fact that he was going to die days ago. And even though Mark knew his Pa wasn't ever going to get anywhere close to where they were at, it was a completely different thing to listen to her threatening his Pa.

Nora could see the growing hatred in Mark's eyes as she spoke, and she enjoyed it. She left her seat and sat on the floor beside Mark, cynically grinning.

"You must have a very deep affection for your father. I saw it last time we met and I can see it now. But there's one thing I want you to know; it's all a lie. Any sense of love and security, care and comfort you've ever felt has all been a lie. There's no such thing as protection or true love in this world because when it all ends, we're all left alone. Where has Lucas been the last few days? He's been off galavanting around, probably laughing and drinking with women as you have sat alone, contemplating your lonely death. You-"

Mark couldn't take listening to this woman anymore. A woman or not, he couldn't just sit there. Mark used all the strength he could muster to kick her away.

For a moment, Nora sat there gawking at Mark, unbelieving he had just kicked her. Finally closing her mouth which had been gaping open, Nora grabbed the knife and slashed Mark's leg.

"One more incident like that and I won't wait for your father to get here!"

Muttering, Nora left the room. Mark continued to watch her through the open doorway as she paced back and forth.

Mark thought about Nora's words and knew she wasn't going to get the option. It would be a week before Bret was back with the news that his Pa wasn't in Las Cruces, and Mark knew he wouldn't last another day tied up like this. But what he wouldn't give to see his Pa one last time.

A long while had passed before Mark heard a horse quickly approaching the house. From where Mark sat, he could see straight to the front door where Bret was coming inside. He couldn't hear any of what they were saying until Nora started yelling.

"What do you mean McCain's here?!"

"I don't know!" The man yelled back. "I saw him on the road and high tailed it back here!"

"Grab the boy!"

Bret ran straight back to where Mark was tied up and began removing the retrains. Mark looked past Bret to see Nora writing a note at the table.

Mark could hardly hold himself up, forcing Bret to half drag, half carry Mark into the next room.

"Now what?"

"Now we go with things as we planned!"

 **21MC21**

Lucas and Micah continued to follow the trail that had left the site of the three dead outlaws. They first followed it to what apparently had been a camp. They both saw signs of a struggle and Lucas felt a strange mixture of fear and joy. He was glad Mark was still alive, but worried about what this man would do to his son.

The two men continued to ride until finally coming up to a large house.

"This is a little out of place," Micah commented.

"A little?"

Lucas dismounted and climbed the porch steps, Micah close behind. Rifle at the ready, Lucas knocked on the door several times.

"Lucas, look at this."

Lucas turned to see Micah pulling a note down that had been nailed onto the porch railing. He took the note from Micah and read it.

"Lucas,

Ride half a mile west and stop at the elm tree. I'm waiting with the boy.

-Nora"

"Nora!" Lucas yelled as he ran back to Razor and took off.

"Lucas-boy, calm down or you won't do anyone any good!" Micah called as he mounted his own horse.

"I'll be calm when that woman's dead!"

Lucas ran Razor hard and followed the directions on the note. When he stopped, he could see two figures on top of a hill. The sun shone behind them, making it difficult to make out, but Lucas had no doubt who was there. He started forward, but suddenly saw a bullet strike in front of him. He looked to his right to see a man standing there with a pistol.

"That's far enough, Mr. McCain."

Lucas looked back up at the hill as a cloud provided a shadow. Fear gripped Lucas as he saw his son with his hands tied above his head, hanging from a tree. Lucas then realized Nora was pointing a gun at Mark.

"Let him go, Nora!" Lucas yelled. "This is about you and me!"

"This is about the life we could've had! But you left me all alone!"

"LET MY SON GO!" Lucas yelled again, showing how desperate he was.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?! I have news for you, Lucas McCain! You're going to know what it feels like to be left all alone!"

"NORA!"

Lucas suddenly heard a groan from the man standing across from him. He briefly turned to see him falling to the ground, Micah having hit him across the back of his head. When Lucas looked back up the hill, he saw Nora taking true aim at his son.

Lucas shouldered his rifle and fired several times, praying his bullets would strike true. He watched with relief as the bullets severed the ropes keeping Mark upright and Nora fell to the ground, clenching her chest.

Lucas kicked Razor and galloped up the hill before jumping down, yelling his son's name.

"Mark!" Lucas desperately yelled as he reached his son.

Trying to ignore the injuries lining his son's face, Lucas pulled out a knife and began to cut away the ropes.

The rancher watched as Mark's eyes half opened. He saw his son recognize him and mouth, "Pa," before Mark slipped into a world of darkness.

After throwing aside that ropes that had bound his son's wrists, Lucas saw the wet blood on Mark's pant leg. Grabbing a shirt from his saddlebag, Lucas carefully wrapped the leg and tried to stop the bleeding.

"Get in the saddle, Lucas," Micah said as he came up behind the rancher. "I'll help push Mark up to you."

Lucas nodded and did as Micah said. It took a bit of doing since Razor kept shying away, but eventually Lucas and his son were in the saddle.

"I'll be right behind you, get him to a doctor."

Lucas didn't bother responding. He turned Razor around and headed for the closest town, trying hard to keep his son in the saddle. Lucas cringed at every groan that escaped his son's lips and constantly begged his son to hang on just a little bit longer.

It was an hour and a half before Lucas reached a town.

"Where's your doctor?!" Lucas yelled to a couple on the boardwalk.

The two pointed down and across the street before Lucas took off again, seeing the sign for the clinic.

As gently as he could, Lucas pulled Mark from the saddle and carried his son inside.

"Please," Was all Lucas could say as he entered the office; he couldn't trust his voice with anymore.

The doctor motioned for Lucas to follow him to a back room and had the tall man lay the boy on the table. The doctor didn't take time to ask questions but instead immediately started his examination. After his initial assessment of the situation, the doctor started to tend to the leg. After cleaning the wound and wrapping it with bandages he went to remove the boy's shirt, but stopped as he remembered the man in the room with him.

"I need you to wait outside."

"I can't-"

"If you want me to do this efficiently, you need to go out!"

Lucas begrudgingly left the room and went to the front office. He waited a long time before he looked up to see Micah entering the building.

"How's Mark?" Micah asked, seeing the grief in the father's eyes.

"...I don't know. The doctor is still in there with him." Finally realizing what had just happened Lucas turned to Micah. "I'm sorry, Micah. I didn't realize I was leaving you out there with the two of them…"

"Lucas, Mark was the priority. She was dead anyway and he was unconscious."

Lucas went back to quietly waiting, all too many "ifs" plaguing him.

Finally, the men heard the doctor enter the room and stood to greet him.

"I assume you're the boy's father?" the doctor asked Lucas.

"I am."

"Mr…?"

"McCain, Lucas McCain."

"Mr. McCain, I don't mean to be insensitive, but if I may ask… what happened to your son?" The doctor incredulously inquired.

"I don't know," Was all the rancher could say.

The doctor held a puzzled look on his face until Micah clarified.

"Doc, Lucas and I had both been out of town and the bank was robbed. His son was taken hostage and from what we do know, he wasn't treated well. Then he was kidnapped again by someone who had it in for Lucas. We're not sure what happened there, but she almost killed the boy."

"She?" The doctor asked in surprise.

"My son," Lucas said, ignoring the question. "Will he be alright?"

"...Mr. McCain, I can't guarantee anything. Like you I'm not exactly sure what happened but… but frankly, his body started shutting down. That's why he's so cold to the touch. Besides all the bruising he has several cracked ribs, a fracture underneath his left eye socket, and he doesn't look like he's had much to eat or drink for some time. I'm trying a fairly new method, getting nutrients into his body through the bloodstream but it might just do the trick."

"...How long until we know?"

"I'm afraid I don't have an answer for you."

"Can I see him?"

"Of course."

The doctor saw Lucas to the back room before going back out to talk to Micah.

Lucas took a seat as he took in the state his boy was in. Looking past all the bandages and bruises, Lucas could see how haggard and hollow-cheeked Mark was. His eyes looked as if they had sunk deep into his skull, and as Lucas took his son's hand, he could feel just how much weight Mark had lost.

"Please, Mark," Lucas begged as he rested his head on the bed, "Please wake up."

 **22MC22**

It had been three days since Lucas had found his son and there was no change other than a slight increase in Mark's body temperature. Lucas sat at his son's bedside, head in his hands.

"No, please…"

Lucas looked up to see Mark slightly stirring in his sleep.

"Please Pa, don't come… let me die…"

Lucas couldn't keep his composure any longer. The rancher slipped from his chair and sank to his knees as the tears streamed down his face.

"Please, God," Lucas begged. "He may not want to live, but I need him to! Don't take him away from me!"

An hour passed before Lucas couldn't shed any more tears. He slowly got back into his chair and sat staring at his boy.

Micah entered the room to see Lucas's disheveled state.

"Alright, Lucas-boy, I've seen enough." Micah walked towards his friend and pointed at the door. "Mark will be fine for an hour. Go to the hotel, get a bath and a decent meal and don't come back until you'll be able to be here for Mark when he wakes up!"

Anger was the first thing that shone in Lucas's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by appreciation. He knew Micah was right, and he knew he needed fresh air.

After a hot bath and meal, Lucas started back towards the office but changed his course when he saw the church.

Slowly entering the building, Lucas walked down the aisle and took a seat in a pew a few rows from the front.

Silently Lucas prayed until he was interrupted by a voice.

"Can I help you?"

Lucas turned to see a man coming from a back room.

"Forgive the intrusion," Lucas began. "I just needed some time to pray."

"No intrusion. It's not my building." The Reverend paused before going on, "You're the man that brought his son into town a few days ago, aren't you?"

"I am."

"Mr. McCain, I'm sorry about your son. I am glad to see you haven't lost faith."

"...Sometimes it's all I have left. I don't know if my son is going home with me or… or going "home" to be with his mother. If God does give us a miracle and brings my son around, I… I'm afraid he won't be the same son I had two and a half weeks ago."

"Mr. McCain, what matters is that he's your son. There's nothing anyone can do to change that. The congregation has been praying for your son, but know that if he does go to be with his mother, he'll be in a better place."

"I know. I don't want to see him like this… but… I can't help but want him with me."

"I can tell by the way you talk about your son that you love him very much. We all love our children, but we have to remember that they're God's children, as well. He won't give any of us more than we can handle, and he won't give us any less than the best. Granted, it may not always seem like the best thing at the time… but He works in mysterious ways."

"...Thank you, Reverend."

"My door's always open, as long as it's between seven and nine."

Lucas smiled along with the man before the Reverend went on.

"You can come knocking on the parsonage door anytime, but the church is always unlocked."

"Thank you, Reverend."

"Have a good night, Mr. McCain."

Lucas went back to praying for a long while before he returned to the clinic. Micah was glad to see Lucas seemed somewhat refreshed when the rancher entered Mark's room.

"Any change?"

"He's been calling out some, but most of it doesn't make sense."

Lucas nodded as he took a seat.

"Micah, you saved both of our lives out there."

"What are friends for?"

"You're more than a friend, Micah."

"Well I couldn't let something happen to my grandson, now could I?"

"Thanks, Micah." Lucas paused before changing the subject. "Any word from back home?"

"They took care of the bodies and recovered almost all the money. I think they were short a little bit, but nothing too significant."

"Micah, what was the story with the man who was helping Nora?"

"He was trying to make some money and Nora hired him to get you and Mark to her. He said he went to North Fork the day the posse took off the first time. He followed since he heard Mark had been taken hostage. I think he's the one that killed the bank robbers, but all I could get out of him was that he found Mark tied up in the middle of nowhere. Guess we'll have to wait until Mark wakes up."

"Micah, when he does, please don't push for answers. We have enough to keep the man in jail right now. I don't want Mark forced into talking about anything before he's ready."

"Sure thing, Lucas-boy. ...Are you ready to talk about it?"

"Not yet, Micah. Not until my son wakes up."

"I understand. Just know that if you need to talk about it, I'm here."

"Thanks. Micah, how much longer until you have to go back home?"

"I can stick around until Mark wakes up."

"Neither of us know when that's going to happen. I appreciate it, but North Fork has got to be quite the madhouse right now, and you have a deputy to bury."

"Are you sure you don't need me?"

"That's not the issue, Micah. I appreciate your willingness, but I don't know when Mark's going to wake. You probably should get back home."

"I'll make sure everything is ready for you out at the ranch."

"The ranch…" Lucas sighed. "That's gotta be a sight right about now…"

"Don't worry about it. I'll get some men and we'll make sure it gets put back in order. You just focus on Mark and getting him home."

"Thanks again Micah, for everything."

"Don't mention it. Let us know when he wakes and when he can come back home."

 **23MC23**

Micah rode into North Fork exhausted. He locked his prisoner in jail before sitting down at his desk to write what he could of his report; a few details would be added once Mark was able to answer some questions.

After finishing, Micah leaned back in his chair and rested his eyes for a few minutes before the door to the office opened. The marshal looked up to see Milly standing there, worry etched on her face.

"Where's Lucas and Mark?"

"They're still in Silver City, I had to come back to take care of things here."

"How's Mark doing?"

"...He was still asleep when I left."

"Micah, what happened to him?" Milly's eyes pleaded with Micah to tell her the truth.

"Milly… the boy… he was beaten half to death and starved. He had a knife wound on his upper thigh and… even asleep he looked so tired."

Milly bit her lip as she tried to stop the tears that threatened to fall.

"...How's Lucas handling all this?"

"He has his ups and downs, but he seemed to be stable enough that I could leave. I didn't want to, but… I have to take care of things here."

"Who's the prisoner? I thought all the bank robbers had been shot?"

"They were. This man was helping an old… "friend" of Lucas's kidnap Mark."

"What?"

"It's a long story. The end result was someone tried to use Mark to get revenge on Lucas."

"I never should have sent Mark to the bank…"

"Milly, the man would have found Mark either way. He was in town the day the posse left and trailed everyone so he could find Mark."

Still believing she was to blame, Milly changed the subject.

"...Does the doctor have any idea when Mark will wake up?"

"He should have woken up by now," Micah sighed.

"If you hear anything, will you let me know?"

"Of course I will. And you can stop blaming yourself."

"Micah, I-"

"Lucas will tell you the same thing when he gets back. The only people to blame are the criminals that did all this."

"I'll see you later, Micah."

 **24MC24**

The doctor was encouraged to see his patient beginning to take on more weight, but was still unsure of why the boy had slept so long. He was worried, but kept his concerns to himself knowing how difficult this already was for the father.

"Have you been able to get word to your wife?" The doctor asked one afternoon.

"Margaret… Margaret passed away a long time ago."

"I'm sorry, I saw the ring and assumed…"

"That's alright. Doc, how long?"

"... I'm sorry, Mr. McCain, I just don't know. He is lucky to be alive, but the important thing is that he is. It's just a matter of time before his body recovers enough."

Lucas nodded in response as he turned and looked at his badly beaten son again.

"Mr. McCain, I have some house calls to make. I should be back here in just over an hour."

"Thank you."

Lucas heard the door to the room close and heavily sighed.

"Mark, you're stronger than this, I know it. You've got to wake up. Son, please!"

The minutes continued to tick by. The doctor returned and checked on Mark before working on paperwork.

Later that evening, Lucas sat reading a Bible from the church by candlelight. He held the book on his lap and had one hand over Mark's.

Finally, Lucas put the Bible aside and was getting ready to go speak with the doctor again when he felt his son squeeze his hand.

"Mark?" Lucas hopefully called as he sat back down. "Mark, can you hear me?"

There was no response, but Lucas wasn't going to give up. He put his hands on Mark's shoulders and gave them a gentle shake.

"Mark, please, wake up," Lucas begged his son. "Don't give up, wake up, Mark. Please, Son…"

Ever so slowly, Lucas watched as his son's eyes opened.

"Mark?" Lucas called again, praying his son would answer.

"Pa?" A weak voice answered.

Lucas wrapped his arms around his son and started to pull him close until Mark let out an involuntary groan.

Lucas gently set his son down and brushed Mark's bangs out of his face.

"What hurts, son?"

"...Everything," Mark answered before letting out a deep breath. "Pa… could I have… some water?"

Lucas nodded and turned to the table nearby to pour his son a glass of water. Mark started to reach for the glass, but couldn't help but grimace in pain.

"Let me help you, Son."

The father gently supported his son's head with one hand and held the glass in the other as he gave his son the water. Once Mark had his fill, Lucas gently laid Mark's head back on the pillows.

As Lucas looked into Mark's eyes, he could see how tired and sick his son felt. He could see the pain Mark felt.

"Mark, I'm going to get the doctor, I'll be right back."

Mark weakly nodded and watched his Pa leave the room. It was only a few moments before he saw his Pa return with another man.

"I can't tell you how good it is to see you awake, boy!" The doctor declared. "Mark, I'm Doctor Cox. Do you think you could answer some questions for me?"

Mark slowly nodded, fighting hard to keep his eyes open.

"Do you remember what happened?"

Mark nodded again.

"Can you tell me the last thing you remember?"

"I… I heard Pa's rifle," Mark quietly answered. "I saw Pa over me… and that was it."

The doctor gave an approving nod before going on, "Can you tell me what hurts?"

"Everything," Mark replied. "My leg and my ribs… they hurt the most."

"I'd expect as much." The doctor walked to the other side of the room and pulled a bottle from a cabinet. He poured some of its contents onto a spoon and had Mark swallow it. "This should help with the pain. Mark, I know how hard this may be, but I want you to stay awake as long as you can. You've been asleep for days and being awake will do your body some good."

Mark slowly nodded in response, wanting nothing more to go back to sleep.

"I'm going to go over to the cafe and see about getting you some broth, help put some meat back on your bones."

"Thanks, Doc," Lucas offered.

"Mark, give it a few days and you should be able to go home."

Again, Mark simply nodded. Lucas was surprised that the news didn't seem to make any difference to his son.

After the doctor left, Mark slowly turned to his Pa.

"What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing?" Lucas asked in surprise. "I was looking for you."

"But how'd… how did you find us? The trail from North Fork… should've been… gone…"

Lucas knew Mark was fighting exhaustion and helped his son slightly sit up before answering.

"Your friend Patricia helped us."

"She made it home then? She's alright?" Mark urgently asked.

"Not a scratch on her."

Mark let out a sigh of relief as Lucas replied.

Lucas had a hundred questions he wanted to ask his son, but as he looked into his boy's eyes, he knew his son wasn't ready.

Father and son sat there alone, both thankful that the other was alive.

When the doctor returned, Mark tried to take the bowl and feed himself, but he was too stiff and sore. Every movement hurt.

Lucas gladly took the bowl and spoon fed Mark. There was little conversation; Mark couldn't think straight enough to talk and Lucas didn't want to make his son feel pressured.

After Mark ate, Lucas read to him from the Bible for a while before exhaustion finally took over and forced him to sleep.

Lucas quietly slipped from the room to talk to the doctor.

"He tried to stay awake, but he finally fell asleep."

The doctor nodded as he responded, "That's alright. I'm frankly surprised he stayed awake as long as he did."

"What now?"

"Now we give him a few days to rest and work his way back up to solid foods. I think you should be able to take him home by Thursday."

"Thanks, Doc. I'm going to go wire back home; I'll be back in a while."

 **25MC25**

As the days passed, Lucas saw physical improvement in his son, but was worried about his son's demeanor. Mark remained quiet and reserved and never smiled. Lucas saw no life in his son's eyes and became more and more concerned.

Thursday came and Lucas was more than ready to take his son home. As they walked from the doctor's office to the train depot, Mark leaned heavily on Lucas and quickly tired.

Once they were settled on the train, Mark quickly fell asleep, leaning against Lucas's shoulder. Lucas took in the moment, thankful to at last have his son safe and on his way home.

Halfway through the trip, Lucas roused Mark so they could change trains. As they settled this time though, Mark didn't seem as tired and stared out the window as the train pulled out of the station.

"...Do you want to talk about it?" Lucas finally asked his son.

"No, Sir," Mark quietly replied.

"Mark?"

Mark turned around to look at his Pa.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Pa."

It was five o'clock when the train rolled into North Fork.

Lucas and Mark met Micah on the platform before Lucas went to get Razor from the stock car.

Afterward, they went to the hotel. Lucas got a room for the night before the three of them sat down to order dinner, but after ten minutes, Mark couldn't take it anymore.

"Pa, can I please go to our room?" Mark quietly asked. "I can't take being stared at like this."

Lucas nodded and stood to walk Mark up to the room, but Mark shook his head.

"Please, Pa, I can go by myself."

Again, Lucas nodded, but it was much more hesitant. Lucas watched as Mark limped out of the restaurant and up the stairs.

"Lucas, what's wrong?"

"I don't know, Micah. He's been quiet since he woke up. He won't talk to me about what happened, but I know it's bothering him. He's scared and I can see it."

"I'm sure with enough time he'll open up." Micah paused before going on, "Lucas, you need to talk to Milly."

"Milly?"

"Lucas she's been blaming herself this whole time. I keep telling her it's not her fault, but she won't listen to me."

"Why would she blame herself?"

"Because Mark was running an errand for her when the bank was robbed."

Lucas sighed and shook his head, "If she's going to blame herself she might as well blame Mark."

"I know, but she needs to hear it from you."

"I'll go over after we eat and talk to her. Micah, did you find anyone to notify about Wes's death?"

"I wrote a letter to the family and the family of the young woman he was planning on marrying."

"It's a shame."

"It certainly is."

Lucas and Micah talked for a long while as they ate. Even though everything was over and done with, Lucas still had fears he needed to express to someone. As always, Micah was there to listen and help his friend in his time of need.

After supper, Lucas went upstairs to check on Mark, who he found sound asleep. The rancher then left the hotel and made his way to Milly's home.

He knocked on the door and waited for Milly to answer.

When the door opened, Milly found herself standing and staring at Lucas. It was a long time before she found her voice.

"Lucas, I… I'm sorry…"

Tears began to trickle down her face as she looked away, but Lucas lifted her chin and gave her a gentle kiss.

"No, Milly. You have nothing to be sorry about. Can I come in?"

Milly nodded and let Lucas inside before they both sat down on the couch.

"Milly, there was a lot going on at once, but none of it was your fault. If Mark hadn't been taken during the bank robbery, another man would have abducted him, and possibly hurt you or someone else in the process. The only reason I was able to find Mark was because someone else saw Mark with the bank robbers. Mark's alive and will be as good as new in just a few weeks. Please, Milly, don't blame yourself."

Milly slowly nodded as tears fell down her cheeks. Lucas wrapped his arms around her as weeks of worry and fear came out.

Lucas held Milly for a long while before she was able to compose herself again.

"Mark… how is he?"

"He's in a lot of pain, and some things will take time to heal, but he should be just fine in time."

"When are you going to take him home?"

"Tomorrow morning; I'll borrow a buckboard from Nils."

Stop by the store before you go, I'll send you home with some soup."

"Thank you, Milly."

Lucas talked with Milly for a while longer before stating he needed to get back to Mark.

Milly stood and left the room before returning and giving Lucas Mark's hat.

He thanked Milly and kissed her goodbye before returning to the hotel.

Mark was already asleep as Lucas turned in, but he couldn't quite fall asleep himself. The last few weeks of memories clouded his brain as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened.

Two hours later, Lucas looked over when he heard Mark stirring in his bed.

"Please… please don't…" Mark mumbled. "Please stop! Stop!" Mark cried with growing intensity as he started thrashing around. "Please!"

"Mark!" Lucas took his son by the shoulders and tried to wake him as Mark struggled.

"Please don't- don't!"

"MARK!"

Mark opened his eyes and saw his Pa in front of him. Realizing it was only a dream, Mark began to relax.

"... I'm sorry, Pa."

"Mark, there's nothing to apologize for. Son, I think we need to talk about what happened."

"...Please, Pa, not now." Mark's eyes pleaded with Lucas to understand.

"Mark, you're going to have to tell Micah what happened."

Mark nodded.

"Wouldn't you rather us talk it through first?"

"No, Sir, not now."

Lucas sighed in frustration. He wanted this nightmare to be over for his son and he knew that couldn't start happening until Mark opened up. Besides that, Lucas wanted answers for himself.

"Alright, not now."

Mark got back under the covers and tried to go back to sleep, but it took a long while.

The next morning, Mark woke before Lucas and quietly slipped out of the hotel room. He made his way to Micah's office and entered to see the marshal working at his desk.

"Mark, good to see you. How are you feeling?" Micah asked as he offered Mark a chair.

"I'm fine," Mark replied as he limped to the seat. "Micah, how many people are left that were involved with this whole thing?"

"What do you mean?"

"There were the three bank robbers, Bret, and Nora. Who's dead and who's in jail?"

"...Bret is the only one that survived. Why?"

"Are people legally required to give their statements to the law after something like this?"

"...No, not exactly."

"Is there enough evidence to convict Bret right now?"

"Well... I reckon so."

"Micah, I don't want to give my testimony to anyone."

"Mark… it'll be good for you."

"I can't, Micah."

Micah watched in defeat as Mark got up and quickly left the office.

Mark returned to the hotel room to find Lucas still asleep. He took a seat at the window, staring down the street, eyes locked onto the bank.

 **26MC26**

It had been two days since Lucas had brought Mark back to the ranch. Mark was improving, but he still was in a lot of pain.

Lucas entered the house after returning from running an errand in town.

Mark looked up from the table to see a less than pleasant look on his Pa's face.

"...I take you Micah talked to you?"

"Yes, Micah talked to me," Lucas replied in frustration as he dropped his hat on the table and took a seat. "Why Mark?"

"Pa…" Mark averted his eyes as he spoke, "Pa I… I'm just not ready. This… this is personal and I don't want what happened to me to be out there for the whole world to see."

"Mark, please. I see the way this is tearing you up on the inside. Please, Son, talk to me."

Mark looked at Lucas, his eyes pleading with him to understand.

"Mark, you need to face what happened. Deep down, you're scared."

"Yes, Sir."

Lucas looked at his son in confusion for a moment, not having anticipated Mark admitting that he was afraid.

"Then why won't you talk to me about it?"

"Pa, I'm sorry. I just… I need time to think. I can't talk because I can't think of a way to even communicate what I'm feeling or what happened. Please, Pa, give me time."

Trying to be patient with his son, but desperate for answers, Lucas stood and left the house. He was worried about Mark. He couldn't get the words "let me die", out of his head and was worried his son might try to take his own life.

Several hours later Lucas returned to the house to see Mark still sitting at the table.

"Pa, I'm sorry," Mark said, hoping Lucas would understand.

Lucas sat down across from his son and sighed heavily.

"Mark, I want to know what happened. But I know I can't make you tell me. I'm here when you're ready to talk, but please Mark, don't keep it all inside for too long."

Mark nodded before Lucas started dinner.

A week later, Mark started school. Mr. Griswold had warned the students not to ask questions and to not treat Mark any differently than they had before.

One Saturday afternoon, Lucas and Mark were in town getting supplies. Lucas was at the feed and grain while Mark was at the general store.

"Lucas, can I talk to you?"

Lucas looked up to see Stephan entering the building.

"Sure, Stephan. What can I do for you?"

"It's Mark. I know he's only been back a few weeks, but…"

"Is it his grades? I'm sorry, I've been busy around the ranch and haven't had much time to check his homework."

"His grades are fine; they're outstanding, actually. I don't think I've ever seen your son put so much effort into his schooling. He's well passed caught up from what he missed at the beginning of the year."

"...Then what's wrong? Is he causing trouble?"

"No, he's been well behaved. Too well behaved."

"Too well behaved?"

"Lucas, I'm worried about Mark. I'm not trying to overstep my bounds, but he seems so… lost. He pays attention during class, but… I don't know how to explain it. He rarely goes outside during lunch or recess, he barely talks to the other boys and… it's like he's just existing."

"I know," Lucas sighed. "I've tried getting him to talk about what happened, but he won't budge. I'm glad to hear he hasn't been trouble in school, but…"

"You and I would both much rather have the old Mark McCain back. I just wanted to let you know Lucas, but obviously this isn't something just at school. If there's anything I can do, let me know."

"Thanks, Stephan."

On the way home, Lucas wanted to try getting Mark to open up, but he went against every fatherly instinct he had and told himself to wait for Mark.

It was a quiet evening and Mark went to bed after finishing his homework. Lucas sat out on the front porch looking up at the stars, trying to come up with a way to get through to his boy.

A long time had passed when Lucas heard the door open behind him.

"Pa?"

Lucas turned to see Mark standing in the doorway, hesitancy in his eyes.

"Pa… can we talk?"

Lucas nodded and motioned for Mark to join him. Mark sat across from Lucas, leaning against a beam.

"...Pa, this all started at Miss Milly's. I was at the store and a man came in looking for supplies. Miss Milly sent me to the back for some cans and when I came out the man was… making advances. I knew there really wasn't anything I could do, but I told him to leave her alone. I knew if you had been there, you would've stood up for her, so I did the best I could. One thing led to another and he slugged me."

Even in the darkness, Mark could sense the rage glowing in Lucas's eyes. He knew this wasn't going to be easy for his Pa to listen to, but he had to tell him the whole thing.

"To be honest, I don't remember most of what happened at the bank. The man that had been at the store was one of the bank robbers. The man, Richards, threw me against the wall at one point and I hit my head. I think I did something to rile them. When I woke up, I was being pulled off a horse. I had been thrown across the saddle and my ribs hurt then, but nothing compared to later on. I knew they were planning on trying to use me as a hostage to pull jobs, and Pa, I couldn't just sit there and let them use me like that. I tried to get away, but I didn't get far. One of the men managed to get a lariat around me and yank me from the horse. Richards was furious and beat me hard." Mark stopped as he re-lived those moments.

Lucas moved closer to his son and put a reassuring hand on Mark's shoulder. He could feel his son trembling.

"The days started to blur together. We were headed to their hideout and it was quite a distance. I collected firewood and water, took care of the horses and that type of thing, but after trying to run away they kept me tied down to a saddle if I wasn't doing work."

There was a long silence, allowing Lucas to ask a question.

"...Mark… how much did they feed you?"

"...Not much, Pa. A few scraps here or there." Mark paused before continuing his story. "One night they brought Pat to camp. She was scared and I knew I had to get her out of there before Tips did anything to her."

"Tips?"

"One of the outlaws. Another one, Fuller, was soft. He slipped me a knife that night. Pat and I worked ourselves free, but I knew I wasn't going to be able to make it far in my condition. I was tired and in a lot of pain. Just breathing hurt. I ran off in a different direction to get them to follow me. I knew Richards wouldn't worry about Pat if I was missing. It didn't take them long to get me back to camp and they had their fun."

"You mean… they beat you again?"

Mark nodded in the darkness. He closed his eyes tight, trying to block out the images.

"...Pa, I thought I was gonna die," Mark finally whispered. "I thought I'd never get to see you again."

Lucas put an arm around his son and drew him close. Mark rested his head against his Pa's chest, thankful for the steady rhythm of Lucas's beating heart.

It was a long time before Mark found his voice again.

"...Maybe it was the next morning, maybe it was longer than that… I don't remember. We were riding and someone started chasing after us. I heard him shooting and next thing I knew someone was offering to take me back to his camp. He untied me and gave me water. He started talking about how he knew you from the army and showed up in town when the posse took off. My brain started to clear and I realized he was too young to have served in the war with you. Once Bret knew his cover was blown he threw me over the saddle and we rode to that house. Nora was there, demanding to know where you were. Pa… she had plans to kill both of us. I wasn't going to tell her where you went."

"Mark!" Lucas exclaimed, realizing his son had deliberately put himself in danger.

"Pa, please," Mark said as he sat up straight. "I knew I couldn't last that long anyway. I love you, and I would never put you in danger like that."

"But you should've known I was coming-"

"Pa, all I knew was that you were in California on business and that the trail from North Fork had to have been gone by then."

Mark waited several moments to collect his thoughts before going on.

"Bret came into the room I was tied up in. He started explaining how he got into this mess and said he was just trying to provide for his family but knew he had done wrong. He said he wanted to make it right and to warn you."

"So you told him?"

"I've learned what the eyes of a liar look like, Pa. I played along and told him you went to Las Cruces. After he left, Nora came in. Pa… she said some things about you and Ma…"

"They're only words, Son."

"I know, but it still made me angry hearing her talk about the two of you like that. I had enough and finally kicked her. I know… it wasn't exactly mature, but I thought I was dying and I wasn't going to put up with it. That's when she slashed my leg."

"...What else, Mark?" Lucas asked, sensing there was more.

"Pa… she taunted me. She talked about all the ways she could kill me… wrapped a cord around my neck."

"Mark, I'm-"

"Pa, this wasn't your fault. It happened… and it took me a long time to come to terms with everything that did happen. At first, I was just scared about dying, but then when Nora entered the picture… I got scared that you were gonna die. And it's taken me a long time to rationalize my fears. But I knew I had to do it for myself, and that's part of why I couldn't talk to you about it. The bruises are almost all gone, my ribs will heal soon… but the memories are going to be there for a long time. I had to figure out how to deal with them before I talked about it and admitted that this actually happened, and because of that, it could happen again. But I also know I can't live in fear of that fact. I just have to live in light of it."

"...I guess you really didn't need to talk to me, then."

Mark could hear the hurt in his Pa's voice.

"I did, Pa. That's why I came out here tonight. I needed to tell you what happened… to admit my fears to someone who would help me through it when they come back. I needed to tell you the truth about everything that happened, and I needed you to understand why I can't talk to Micah. He's like family, but I only have one Pa and some things… some things need to stay between a father and son."

"What if there wouldn't have been enough evidence to convict Bret?"

"I would've said what was necessary… but it still would have been hard. I probably wouldn't have opened up this soon. And you probably would have had to give me several stern lectures on standing up for what's right even when it's hard."

"Mark, thank you for telling me what happened."

"Thanks for listening and giving me time."

"...Mark, can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, Sir?"

"When we were back in Silver City, you would mumble in your sleep. You were begging me not to come, and you… you asked to die…?"

"I'm sorry you heard that, Pa. When Bret came into the house and said you were on your way, I knew Nora's plans. She was going to kill both of us and I knew I was already halfway there. I didn't want you to come because I didn't want her to kill you. I was probably remembering in my sleep."

Mark looked at his Pa to see grief etched on Lucas's face.

"I know that's hard for you to hear, Pa, but it's how I feel. I would willingly die to save your life. Pa, I love you."

Lucas again pulled his son close as a tear fell from his eye.

"I love you, Son. More than you will ever know."

 **27MC27**

The next few weeks held their fair share of difficulties, but Mark was able to get through them with the help of his Pa.

One Sunday afternoon, Milly invited Mark, Lucas, and Micah all over for Sunday dinner.

While Mark worked on the dishes, the three adults sat in the parlor.

"Lucas it's so good to see life back in his eyes," Milly commented with a smile. "He didn't even complain about the dishes."

"Well I think whispers of an apple pie had more to do with that than anything else," Lucas chuckled. "But yes, it's good to have him back to himself."

"Lucas, you think he'll change his mind about giving his statement? The Marshal's Service is really wanting to know the whole story."

Lucas shook his head as he replied, "They don't need to know the whole story right now. Bret is in jail for life and there's no need for Mark to go through talking about all that again. I heard his story and… trust me, Micah, he doesn't need to relive it. Maybe a few years down the road, but not now. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't say anything to him."

"Not a word, Lucas-boy."

"I'm done with the dishes," Mark announced as he walked through the parlor door.

"Well, Mark, let's go dirty a few more with some apple pie!" Milly stood as she and Mark went to get the dessert.

Late that afternoon, Lucas and Mark headed back to the ranch. As they were tending to the barn chores, Mark suddenly stopped and looked at Lucas.

"Pa, thanks for asking Micah to drop the matter."

"You heard?"

"I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but yeah."

"Like I said, you don't need to go through that again."

"Pa, thanks for everything. I know this last month has been hard for you."

"You're far beyond worth it, Son."

"You know, Pa, I was thinking," Mark said, changing the tone of his voice. "With me being laid up we've kinda gotten behind on work around the ranch."

"You're not getting out of school, Mark."

"But what if I just went once a week and got my lessons from Mr. Griswold and did them at home? It'd cut out all that time I waste riding to school and back, and I could get it done a whole lot quicker and-"

"And my answer is no. We're not that far behind and I'm paying for you to go to school five days a week, so you will go to school five days a week."

"But-"

Lucas raised his eyebrows at his son.

"If you're that eager to get out of school you could ask your teacher for extra work and finish early."

"It was worth a shot…"

"You're shooting at the wrong target, Son," Lucas chuckled.

"Speaking of shooting, can I get a-"

"No."

"What if it was just for-"

"No, Mark."

Mark sighed and shoved the pitchfork into the haystack.

"How about-"

"No!"

Father and son looked at each other before smiling then breaking out into laughter.

Lucas locked the door to Razor's stall and walked towards Mark before putting an arm around his son's shoulders.

"How about you and I go on a fishing trip after you get home from school tomorrow?"

"Sounds just about as good," Mark replied with a grin. "...Just as long as you don't fall asleep again. Your snoring scares all the fish away!"

Lucas chased his son out of the barn and towards the house. He gave Mark a playful swat when he caught up to him, thankful things were finally back to normal.

Episodes referenced:

Episode 4, "The Marshal"

Episode 37, "The Raid"

Episode 64, "A Time for Singing"

Episode 75, "Nora"

Episode 77, "Trail of Hate"

Episodes 96 & 97, "The Wyoming Story"

Episode 111, "Vaqueros"

Episode 123, "A Friend in Need"

Episode 132, "Deadly Image"


End file.
